Coproburger king

Food was bad. Each week, a fresh produce scandal clogged the news arteries. People were becoming so scared of the latest virus they were refusing to chow their most beloved crap, and sales were dropping. That was the humdinger facing the industry, and it was Jack’s problem to solve.

Jack was a marketing guru with twenty years experience, but even he felt squeamish watching the newsfeeds of live horses, pigs and sheep ground together by a dirty mincer. No wonder people were getting sick, given the rancid conditions of the production plants.

“It’s not as poisonous as you think,” commented Faye, his vegan secretary. “The human body filters toxins far more efficiently than any sausage maker.”

Aha! A lightbulb flashed over Jack’s head, completely misunderstanding Faye’s stance. Clean waste produced fresh food, he brainstormed. That was it! Human waste would be reprocessed and burgerised, guaranteed free from toxins.

Like all Jack’s ideas, it sold. After an initial strain, a marketing push relaxed qualms, and coprophilia squeezed into acceptabilty, before exploding in the masses. Fresh employment opportunities arose, with the obese encouraged to guzzle vitamins in training as filtration conduits. The fitter the human filter, the healthier the waste, and a price structure (value to gourmet) was introduced, dependent on the conduit. Naturally, celebrities and Hollywood stars were quick to bring out their own ranges. Paltrow’s Goop competed with Kardashian’s Rump in initial sales.

Although the slurry could be coloured and shaped to resemble any food the coproburger predictably reigned. Walking to buy a double whopper, Jack noticed a conclave of dormouse huddled around a fire. They were cooking a dead sparrow.

Jack understood that cannibalism often marked the end of a civillisation, while the use of fire could herald the development of a new one. If mice were now developing cooking skills, he wondered if he was watching the end of his own, and how much he had helped in that.

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