The rough and final drafts of the Tyson mission statement on animal well-being

The Final Draft:

The rough draft:

The PR department prepared a statement for me to read? Let's see it. "The Tyson Mission Statement on animal well-being" ... wait, this is a joke, isn't it? A mission statement on animal well-being? Was it Charlie who put you guys up to this? Good one, Charlie! You got me. Back to work, everybody. What? It's for real, you say? People care about how we treat the chickens? Undercover videos of abuse? You mean that video you showed me depicted animal abuse? I thought the folks from corporate communications made that to inspire the troops. Okay, fine. The Tyson mission statement on animal well-being. At Tyson foods, it's our mission to kill as many of the buggers as we can as fast as we can and we care about their well-being about as much as I care about this cockroach under my shoe. What? That's not what the statement you handed me said? I'll have to put on my glasses. Okay. Here's we go. Tyson Foods is committed to the well-being ... hee hee, I'm sorry, I can't read that with a straight face. Give me a minute. Okay, I'm ready. Tyson Foods is committed to the well-being, proper handling and humane slaughter ... now that part sounds more like it. Take out the "humane" in front of "slaughter" and you've got yourself a mission statement. Okay, fine, "humane" stays in. I pay you PR folks good money so I'll listen to you this time. Where was I? We're committed to the proper handling. You wrap your hands around the neck and twist. Heh heh. We pledge our diligence in leading the industry pursuit of new and improved methods of denying allegations of animal cruelty. I'm getting the hang of it, aren't I? I'm a natural. I don't need you suck-ups from corporate communications to hold my hand through this thing. What's this next part? "Stewards of the animals we work with every day?" Are you serious? I say something like that, I'll be the laughing stock of the entire poultry business. Okay, now I know it's a gag. You got me and you got me good. I know it was Charlie who put you up to this. The stewards of animals we work with every day. That's a classic. Good job, people. I like my employees to have a sense of humor. What comes next? "This is not only the right thing to do, but it is an important moral and ethical obligation." Hee hee! You guys are too funny. I practically peed my pants when I read that one. You tell Charlie I owe him one. Funny stuff, funny stuff!

Other rough and final drafts here and here.

Young, rebellious steer rejects the life of his elders

-- Your father was a beef burrito, his father was a beef burrito.  But it's not good enough for you.

-- Look, I don't want to be slaughtered at one of those impersonal factory farms, eaten by people who care nothing about our well-being.  I want to be eaten by people who treat us with kindness and compassion before they slaughter us.  I want to be an animal welfare-approved piece of steak, purchased by a progressive shopper who cares so deeply about reducing my suffering that she/he is willing to pay a little extra for a taste of my flesh.  You see how I say she/he?  I picked it up from them.  These people are so sensitive to any and all forms of oppression/domination ... ah, you wouldn't understand.  I mean when you're a beef burrito, you'll end up getting eaten by a car full of drunken fraternity guys at two in the morning, guys who couldn't care less about how much you suffered.  Not me.  I'm going to be eaten by sensitive, refined progressives who sip chardonnay in between bites of my flesh.   And believe me, they won't be talking about the hot chicks they want to do, like your drunken frat boys in the drive-thru lane.  Not even close.  The progressive people who consume my flesh will be discussing important things, like saving the planet, reducing their carbon footprints, making sure animals like us are treated humanely.

-- You'll still be dead.

-- yes, but I'll die knowing my flesh will soon give sustenance to people who are fighting to give us a better life.

-- If these people care so much about your suffering, why do they eat you?

-- Everything is so black and white with you.  These progressives are comfortable with ambiguity.  They can believe passionately in reducing our suffering and still eat us.

-- How?

-- How should I know?  I'm only a steer.  I'm not a human progressive.  If I were, I'd know the answer but I'm not.  So fuck off, I don't give a fuck if grandad was a beef burrito or a Whopper or a Big Mac.  I'm going to be an Animal Welfare-Approved piece of steak eaten by a progressive and that's fucking that.