A Fresh Squeeze of Botulism

Brian is in town, doing yeoman duty by taking pictures of engaged couples in some pretty photography-unfriendly weather.  A tree is down on John's route to work, having taken power lines with it, and it looks like it will be closed for some time.  We're all up and roaming about in our little house, lining up at the coffee maker, watching the wind wave the trees about like so many blades of grass (I am so glad we took the big trees down), and watching the local news, which John likes in the morning.  A trippy psychedelic orange juice commercial plays in the background, when suddenly Brian says, "A fresh squeeze of botulism?"

Good morning, sir - would you like ptomaine with your eggs?