"Not dope meat again!" John looked at the grey chunks of meat floating in the brown gravy with distaste. He stirred them, stabbed one with a fork, watched in dismay as the chunk disintergrated into several pieces. 

'Don't be such a spoiled brat," Jamie said. "It's what we farm, it's what we eat."

"Mum says anything as cheap as dope meat can't be good for you."

"Your Mum's a snob, cuz. Your family has a good chunk of the shares for the business. That's how you manage to afford that expensive grain-fed beef your always dining on. Remember, this is what saved the human race from starvation, back before we were born. Just be grateful that most people out there  still get to eat a beef meat substitute, otherwise we'd all be eating cockroaches and withered grass." Jamie had finished his meal, was in the mood to talk, it seemed. "You know, there was a crisis, everything was dying, crops were failing, people were starving. And then, someone came up with a solution. It was marketed as Simply Meat back then. Some genetic modifications, and it gets tastier all the time. We have the best scientists working on it right now, over at the factory."

"O.K., don't nag. I still hate it." John scooped a chunk onto a fork, slurped it down with distaste. Even the texture was horrible. Genetically grown meat from a lab somewhere. Or worse, and judging by the large concrete buildings next door, probably rat-meat. No-one seemed to know, no-one seemed to care to know. The rumours from his classmates encompassed every revolting theory that they could think up.

John was staying with his cousin's family for three long weeks whilst his parents were on a business trip. Three long weeks of boring, out in the country in the middle of no-where weeks. Jamie's family were one of those 'get back to basics' families, the ones that rejected modern technology in favour of doing things 'the old way.' 

John could not see the attraction of riding ponies to the local water hole for a swim, the water looked brown and dirty, the ponies smelt funny and stinky, he hated the exercise and fresh air. The ponies seemed to be the only transport round the farm for the kids. Jamie's father had an ancient tractor, and Aunt Pauline went out shopping in an old car, but hardly ever. They were proudly self-sufficient, where-ever they could. Grew their own vegetables. Ate their own disgusting dope meat. Rat meat. Raised in the buildings next to the farm.

Oh, hurry up Mum and Dad, I want to go home! To my apartment bedroom, and to my games, and to my Mum's excellent expensive taste in food.

"Tomorrow, my parents said it was about time you found out just where your wealth and your priveliged lifestyle comes from," Jamie said. "They have authorised a trip to the factory. Normally, this isn't allowed, but they feel it is about time you grew up. Especially since you benefit from the proceedings that we earn for you and your family." Jamie couldn't help keeping the disdain out of his voice.

John said nothing, pushed the grey meat around and around his plate. At the moment, he loathed his older cousin. Grow up, huh. Jamie was a country bumpkin who wouldn't last two seconds in the city. Man, this food even smelt weird.

Jamie sighed. He looked at the meat on John's plate, mostly untouched. "Are you going to eat that?"

"Probably not."

"Hand it over, shouldn't waste good food." Jamie scoffed the rest up.

The next day, after a breakfast of meal-worm flour pancakes, which were not too bad as they were covered in sweet syrup, Jamie had a long talk with his mother in private, whilst John hung around the living room, feeling no enthusiasm. Just what he needed, another long walk. Why didn't they have some decent transport in this place? 

Jamie and Aunt Pauline finally appeared with some papers. "Sorry, John, government regulations. You've got to sign these before you are allowed access to the plant."

As Jamie signed them, barely reading the text, Aunt Pauline looked at him sternly. "You are not to reveal anything that you see today, to anyone outside of this family. Understood?"

"Yeah, wouldn't want to shoot you," Jamie sniggered.

"How about I don't go?"

"Oh, no, time for a reality check, young man. If my sister wants to take her share of the money, fine, but I'm not letting any of her family off the hook. You can find out what we do here. I don't care what she wants. Otherwise, she can cut short that fancy trip of hers and come straight back and get you."

"I wish she would," John mumbled but he didn't dare say it out loud. His parents would not be happy if they had to come back early.

Finally they started out. Jamie took John along the path to the factory buildings alongside the lifestyle farm. Jamie stopped to pat the ponies on the way and John studied the long, low concrete buildings. There were tall fences with razor wire all around the complex. "What do they keep in there?"

"That's where the livestock are," Jamie said. "So it has artificial lights and we keep it heated, that's why no windows. You'll see it soon."

"More like you don't want anyone to see the rats in there and be grossed out," John said, slapping the white pony's nose away after it tried to bite his hand.

"Stop mistreating Misty, and come on," Jamie said, annoyed. He found his cousin hard work. A typical spoiled boy from the city. Jamie would be glad when John left. 

They came to the entrance, with its security guards and barbed wire.

"Hello, young Jamie, and who have you brought with you today?"

"This is my cousin, John."

"Ah, yes, your father informed us he was coming today. It'll be alright, go on through." The guard waved them on in. He made a point of gesturing at John with his gun. "Behave, or I'll shoot you."

John found this joke wearing thin.

They were met at the door by  a young blonde woman wearing a crisp black business suit over a white blouse, and clopping high heel shoes. 

"Hi," she said to John, shaking his hand. "I'm Angela. I'll show you around."

"Livestock first," Jamie said with a snigger. "Lets go to the female building."

"All in good time," Angela said. "And strict instructions from your mother, male livestock only. Now, come this way, I'll show you the office."

The tour for the first part of the factory was not remarkable. 

Office, where the paper work was done. Boring.

Lecture about when the factory had started, the proud history of providing cheap quality meat to those that could afford it, how environmentally friendly the whole operation was, profit margins, blah, blah, blah.

Warehouse and dispatch area, where trucks were being unloaded with large pallets of sacks of stock food. Here there was a strange, musty smell coming from the sacks. The air was full of dust. Men in overalls were talking as they worked, trucks rumbled through, banging and thumping as the pallets and sacks were moved around. John felt his eyes watering and he felt itchy. Unpleasant.

Processing plant,  a large space with chains and conveyer belts and other machinery, though not in use today. This stunk of disinfectant. And something darker, sweetish, but unpleasant. John couldn't place what it was. John could see that the room went a long way back but the lights were off. Probably the most interesting room so far, so of course it wasn't in operation today. Pissed off.

There were other rooms, but they were off-limits.

"Government regulations," Angela explained. "You need extra security clearance."

"Yeah, I know, if I go in there, you'll shoot me." John trudged past the closed doors, whilst Angela gave him a disgusted look.

"Time for the livestock," Jamie said. "John can't wait to see our rats!"

"Rats? Hmm, I suppose they are rattish. Yes, I think it is about time John saw the livestock." Angela gave John another disdainful look. "I'll take you upstairs, to the viewing platform. We'll take a look at the male stock. You get the best view of the dopes from there."

They went through some heavy fire doors, and up a concrete stairway. John could smell lavender disinfectant, and under it, shit, urine, and a sour body odour smell. Definately rats, he supposed. He wasn't looking forward to looking at a mass of grey, scurrying bodies swarming around each other.

John had seen plenty of rats in the city. They were a major problem. They were also a major food source for the homeless and the poor families living in the slums. Maybe the breeding program had produced a tastier, more edible product, but John didn't want to consume it, wouldn't have to once he got home.

"We've just washed the place down," Angela said. "They don't smell too bad right now. They shouldn't look too disgusting either."

"I give you, RATS!" Jamie yelled.

This was followed by a nightmarish noise from below. A sort of howling, like the noise a distressed baby makes, but multiplied by a thousand babies.

The three of them looked over the security rail. John was astonished to see people. Men. 

Naked men.

He couldn't take it in all in at once. He felt a cold sensation creeping over him, like when he had a stomach ache and knew he was going to vomit.

The men were short and chubby, with short arms and legs. Grey skin. Greasy skin. Slug skin. He started to see that the grey skin was translucent, he could see pink flesh under the skin. He could see the skin move over the pink flesh underneath. 

He was fixated on that grey skin.

He was shaking. He gripped the security rail with cold, white hands. 

He watched in horrified fascination as the men stumbled around in the packed space. It was hot and bright in the building. The building went on as far as he could see. Every last bit of space was occupied by one of the strange men. 

The men were making baby noises. They pissed or shat where they stood.

"Well, what do you think of our mutants?" Jamie sneered.

"Can they talk?" John whispered.

"No, of course not. Every bit of intelligence is lacking," Angela said. She laughed. Nastily. "If we do find a smart one, we cull it."

"Hey, look," Jamie said, pointing. "Those two are having a fight."

Two of the mutant men were lashing out at each other with fists clenched, howling at each other, whilst others near-by watched with no comprehension.

"Yeah, that's always fun to watch," Angela said, "but they might bruise the meat. This lot goes to the butchery tomorrow. Better get a shot of cold water over there..."

John had seen enough. 

His stomach lurched. 

He ran back down the stairs, barely made it through the fire doors when the contents of his breakfast came charging out again.

John never talked of this. And knew he would rather starve to death than ever take a bite of Dope Meat again.