Drabbles compiled
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It was another talk-show and another pundit-a word here used to describe a windbag who's very breath exuded foul odors like a human orifice that needs no introduction.
"Senator, you're telling us now that the NOS Plague-"
"We're calling it Syndrome here, there's no need to panic people."
"The Syndrome is Genetic? How do you propose to cure something that's genetic? And for that matter, how can you justify what GeneCo is proposing to millions of Americans-not to mention the world at large?"
"Well we-"
"...And for that matter, how can you assume that this will solve the problem? Is contributing to the moral decay of America worth saving a few lives? Wouldn't it be better to-as our viewers have been quoted-go out on top as opposed to prolonging our suffering in such a vicious and brutal manner? In addition to-"
"Do you have children?"
The pause is sweet.
"It's a simple question. Do you have any kids?"
"...." Nervous glance to the camera, "...I've got a son."
"What's his name?"
"I hardly think that's-"
"What's. His. Name?"
"...Anthony." The pundit's face fell, "Anthony. He's-uh-He's ten."
"At any moment your son could be struck by this." The passion in his voice is deep, rich and filling. This is Jimmy Stewart, this is Mr. Smith goes to washington, this is history making and the television cameras pull in close.
"At any moment Anthony could be playing ball at the tender age of ten and suffer a heart attack. A heart attack, you could join the millions of parents asking themselves just what they did to cause it. The quiet desperation at seeing something you made and loved-your contribution to the human race vanish in a heartbeat.
Don't answer that. Don't tell me that you would have done everything in your power to save them. Because you're the one who killed little Anthony. With your Genetics. You're absolutely right, we can't treat the cause but we can treat the symptoms of this disease.
And failing to do that-well-would you support the murder of your child...or are you like most decent hardworking Americans who understand that sacrifice sometimes means making the choices that no one else is willing to make? For my children."
His voice is raw, "...I would make that sacrifice. Because I love my children. You love your son.
Don't you?"
The pundit, absolutely aghast, looks desperately at the camera before mumbling something noncomittal-the dead air time filling the room.
It was another talk-show and another pundit-a word here used to describe a windbag who's very breath exuded foul odors like a human orifice that needs no introduction.
"Senator, you're telling us now that the NOS Plague-"
"We're calling it Syndrome here, there's no need to panic people."
"The Syndrome is Genetic? How do you propose to cure something that's genetic? And for that matter, how can you justify what GeneCo is proposing to millions of Americans-not to mention the world at large?"
"Well we-"
"...And for that matter, how can you assume that this will solve the problem? Is contributing to the moral decay of America worth saving a few lives? Wouldn't it be better to-as our viewers have been quoted-go out on top as opposed to prolonging our suffering in such a vicious and brutal manner? In addition to-"
"Do you have children?"
The pause is sweet.
"It's a simple question. Do you have any kids?"
"...." Nervous glance to the camera, "...I've got a son."
"What's his name?"
"I hardly think that's-"
"What's. His. Name?"
"...Anthony." The pundit's face fell, "Anthony. He's-uh-He's ten."
"At any moment your son could be struck by this." The passion in his voice is deep, rich and filling. This is Jimmy Stewart, this is Mr. Smith goes to washington, this is history making and the television cameras pull in close.
"At any moment Anthony could be playing ball at the tender age of ten and suffer a heart attack. A heart attack, you could join the millions of parents asking themselves just what they did to cause it. The quiet desperation at seeing something you made and loved-your contribution to the human race vanish in a heartbeat.
Don't answer that. Don't tell me that you would have done everything in your power to save them. Because you're the one who killed little Anthony. With your Genetics. You're absolutely right, we can't treat the cause but we can treat the symptoms of this disease.
And failing to do that-well-would you support the murder of your child...or are you like most decent hardworking Americans who understand that sacrifice sometimes means making the choices that no one else is willing to make? For my children."
His voice is raw, "...I would make that sacrifice. Because I love my children. You love your son.
Don't you?"
The pundit, absolutely aghast, looks desperately at the camera before mumbling something noncomittal-the dead air time filling the room.