Personally, I think they made it because, well, you know scientific researchers: They're party animals! Can you imagine the revelry at a molecular biology soiree when, after a few beers, a doctor of signal-transduction pathways lets loose a fluorescent pig? "Sooie!" is all I can say.

The pig holds obvious promise for us laypersons too. Take, say, lunchtime. The company cafeteria will be transformed when they start selling glow-in-the-dark BLTs. Lunchtime will be a whole lot more fun when people start bringing fluorescent-ham sandwiches to work. Barbecued pork ribs will shine with a luminescence that, until now, only true barbecue hounds have witnessed when gnawing a particularly heavenly rib. And won't Christmas truly be aglow when a shimmering ham is placed on the holiday table?

The possibilities go beyond food, of course. Rabid sports fans - you know, the type who go shirtless and who like to paint themselves - will be even more rabid when they are fluorescent.

Toddlers will be a whole lot easier to keep track of. Rather than attaching them to a leash or chasing after them as they run into a crowd at the mall, it will be far more effective to simply track them by their luminosity.

Even literature may be affected. The title of the famous Dr. Seuss book may change to Green Ham and Eggs.

When something like this happens, it goes, well, hog wild. An entirely new emotional palette is created, with people becoming not just green but fluorescent green with envy. A breakaway faction of the Green Party will rename itself the Fluorescent Green Party. The rock band Green Day will become, well, you know.

The applications are endless.

Still, I can't help thinking about the pig. I mean, talk about an extreme makeover. What, I wonder, did his piggy pals say when they caught a glimpse of their new fluorescent-green penmate?