Good or Bad
Original: Good or Bad on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1: A red-haired woman looks up at a large purple flower with a dark center.
Woman: Mother Nature... are we humans good or bad?
Panel 2: The flower answers emphatically.
Flower: Bad! Bad bad bad!
Panel 3:
Flower: You've created nuclear weapons that could wipe out all human life in a half hour!
Panel 4:
Woman: It's true. We—
Flower: And you still haven't used them!
Panel 5:
Flower: The button is right there!
Panel 6: A tiny figure of the woman stands beneath the towering flower.
Flower: I mean I get the whole "organic" thing, but sometimes you have an infestation and it's time to spray spray spray!
Panel 7:
Woman: I was hoping for something uplifting, possibly involving compost.
Flower: Mix yourself with some straw and cardboard and you'll be soil three weeks after the nukes start flying.
Votey: A simpler line-art panel.
Flower: Maybe sprinkle in some poison gas or modified anthrax, wouldja?
Woman: Mother Nature... are we humans good or bad?
Panel 2: The flower answers emphatically.
Flower: Bad! Bad bad bad!
Panel 3:
Flower: You've created nuclear weapons that could wipe out all human life in a half hour!
Panel 4:
Woman: It's true. We—
Flower: And you still haven't used them!
Panel 5:
Flower: The button is right there!
Panel 6: A tiny figure of the woman stands beneath the towering flower.
Flower: I mean I get the whole "organic" thing, but sometimes you have an infestation and it's time to spray spray spray!
Panel 7:
Woman: I was hoping for something uplifting, possibly involving compost.
Flower: Mix yourself with some straw and cardboard and you'll be soil three weeks after the nukes start flying.
Votey: A simpler line-art panel.
Flower: Maybe sprinkle in some poison gas or modified anthrax, wouldja?
Alt text
A six-panel comic in which a woman asks a giant talking flower ("Mother Nature") whether humans are good or bad. The flower insists humans are bad — not because they built world-ending nuclear weapons, but because they haven't used them yet, urging her toward the button and comparing humanity to a pest infestation that needs spraying. When the woman says she'd hoped for something uplifting about compost, the flower cheerfully notes she'll become soil three weeks after the nukes fly. The joke inverts the expected gentle-Mother-Nature trope: nature here is gleefully pro-extinction. In the bonus panel, the flower adds that she should sprinkle in some poison gas or anthrax too.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.