It was a sunny day, almost too sunny for a day for a day in january. John was as a biotoys expert expected in the Pentagon for a hearing with several military, industrial and political high-ups. The tensions between the USA and north-korea rose in the course of the last years. There are rumors north-korea builts up his nuclear arsenal, the US public was against the arm race with north-korea and wanted to have a more diplomatic approach. “John Fitzgerald, Biotoys expert”, said John as he approached the checkpoint. The guard first glared at him and then let him through. On the hallways of the pentagon is a hurry, people working, carrying documents, talking on phones some talking with colleagues. He was led by an bored looking young secretary to a conference room with a big round table. A table like in the movie that John watched some time ago, some movie by Kubrick, but he forget the name.
After some minutes other men enter the conference room, one with crutches and sunglasses on. Now comes also the president in he commands his secret service guards to leave the room, what they do reluctantly.
“Well Gentleman, we are all here because we have a problem.”, said a decorated military guy. “North Korea”, said the man and a map of north korea flashed on the screen. “This land under that stuffed dumbling called Kim-Jung Un is building up its nuclear arsenal”, he explained and gestures his hand to the projection wall. “We all know that Mr. Westling”, interrupts the President “Mr. Westling, but we cannot do arm up, scince the public is against a arms race”. Mr.Westling now puts on a dark smirk “What do the people in the cities of america hate the most?” he asks into the room. “Communists!”, yells an older man. “No, who are you? Joe McCarthy?”, he answers clearly annoyed. “I meant these shitrats”, he said and a picture of a mare and several foals flash on the projection wall. “Scince PETA freed them from the “hasbio” laboratories, herds of these shitrats flooding the cities, and even farms. These things damaging ecologic environment like fucking little walking nuclear bombs that lay eggs.” “Wich also shit!”,yells a other man in a suit. “Exactly,now Gentlemen we know these abominations eat everything to sustain thier offspring. Mr. Westers here”, Westling waves to John, “surely knows how much these mares have foals and how often they have thier”, he spits out, “babbehs”.
John now raises the word “Thats correct Mr. Westling, the mares can, depending on thier genetic basics have a drop of several foals in a few months. But what are you planning to do Mr.Westling?”. “Well, what if we starve North Korea with hoard of feral fluffies dropped off?”, he explains. “What are you saying is not really possible, Mr. Westling, the fluffies are as we all know dumb as hell and fragile”, John responds.
Westling reponds “Indeed, well we tested it” a picture flashes showing a big areal with small farms and a bigher farm in the middle. “That’s CropVille a experimental research ground, spanning over 300 hectares in Nevada. Inhabited by prisoners that were said to be part of an new kind of prison. They are working on the fields, eating what they harvest and having farm animals.” The other men are now intruged. “We started the experimentation ground as an originally acriculture research ground. Where we researched how many people can live independent.”, the president nods impressed. Westling continues, “Bring in the subjects”, he yells and a door opens, a secretary rolls in a wagon with a a glass tube. Inside the tube are a mare with a stallion. “These where the tubes we decided to drop on CropVille.” he shakes the tube, the men can hear the muffled squaks and coos of the the two fluffies in the tube.
Note of Author: May be my bad grammer be excused. English is not my first language. I am open for tips.