Tomatoes are being reared in oppressive conditions, raised on excrement and grown in cramped, artificially heated conditions.

A team of activists from the RR headquarters, (also the secret base of the Mangrove Liberation Front) swaps crops this week to mount a covert operation to infiltrate a hothouse to expose a case of Tomato Torture. We act on a tip off, but cannot reveal the source of the leek.
We approach the glass house in the middle of the night to avoid detection from the owner. Despite signs on the gates saying 'keep out” and 'trespassers will be put in a puree” we jump the fence anyway. We hear the distressed tomatoes screaming from several hundred metres away.
Once inside the glasshouse, the true horror of tomato conditions becomes apparent.
Sauce of the problem: The heat is oppressive.
The tomatoes are jammed into rows like a concentration camp. (Warning: you have to be careful when using words like ‘concentrate' when around fruit.)
None of the plants are allowed out of the enclosure and they are regularly subjected to water torture, not unlike the waterboarding at Guantanamo Bay.
Regularly they are humiliated by manuring, having to live in someone else's doodoos.
The smallest of the plants, if they don't grow vigorously or produce copious offspring, are unmercifully plucked from the ground and taken to a compost heap, never to be seen again.
Those that do produce, have their young ripped from their stems without anaesthetic.
Then there's the sprays. A bombardment of chemical cocktails.

In the light of exposure
The lights of our cameras catch the horrible sight of a diseased plant, wilted and dying, in one corner. It had clearly given up the will to live.
This is the look of a depressed tomato. Its fruit soft and oozy, you can see the despair, like it is saying, ‘end it now, just add vodka and call me a Bloody Mary.'
Another had fallen off his stake, suffered terrible injury and lay helpless on the ground. They say he'll be a vegetable for the rest of his life.
One tomato, who didn't want to be named for fear of being grilled, or the farm owner might ketchup with him, says such intensive farming practices are common. Only free range tomatoes have the luxury of a comfortable life in the outdoors.
The pictures of the mayhem you see on this page were sent via satellite, enlisting the help of the nearby peas for a podcast on broadbean band.
Later in the day, we go to a free range tomato garden and see tomatoes growing happily in the outdoors, with space to spread and fresh air all around. They can exercise and socialise with other fruit and veges and grow under the clear blue skies with natural rain water and crisp, clear nights. Conditions are great, and include excellent celery. They freely chatted about gossip on the grapevine and texted each other on their blackberries.
It couldn't be more of a contrast.
Next: we dig into the potato crisis; point a digit at the cruelty of harvesting fish fingers; investigate corn fatalities as a result of a cereal killer; discover why beans are running and expose criminal onion rings.

Folk heroes or sorry losers?
New Zealand has come horribly close to making folk heroes of outlaws this week, with the capture of Billy Stewart, on the run for a hundred days in the South Island; and the Rotorua couple who absconded with a few million after Westpac's wee slip of the keyboard.
Let me remind those who seek to glorify these sort of people: They are simply lawbreaking losers. While the romance of being on the run might seem impressive, their days are numbered and ultimately they are destined for justice.
The point that is overlooked: A lot of police time, and therefore our hard-earned tax, is being wasted in the pursuit of these selfish individuals. Once in the hands of the justice system, they should be made to pay back not only what they've taken, but costs to the NZ taxpayer for the horrendous price of tracking them down and bringing them to justice. Instead of giving them a nice warm cell for the winter, with heated floor and all mod cons, why not save some of the taxpayer funds they've squandered.
Lock them up in a sow stall. There's going to be a few spare after this week.

Cashing in
Spotted downtown this week: a couple of ladies collecting in red Westpac vests. I asked if the bank was seeking donations to recoup the $10 million it accidently paid to the Rotorua runners. But it turned out to be for the rescue helicopter appeal.
I donated $10 because you never know when you're going to need an emergency chopper lift. Such as when you want to leave Westpac in a hurry with a large amount of their cash.