I’ve been ripped before in my life but today I was straight up tripping balls. Straight fucking balls.
Ice cream. Mint chocolate-chip ice cream. That’s all I want. All I want is a pint of mint-chocolate chip ice-cream. Just like Jeffrey Dahmer’s last meal.
TO THE GROCERY STORE WITH YOU! TALLY-HO! Squire, prepare my steed! We ride for the Kingdom of Supermarche!
Oh God that’s cold, the wind. Electric boogaloo. Arsenic flavoured cotton candy. An automated screwdriver and lint-roller, all-in-one, as seen on TV! Variable bitrate encrypted Rhino catheters. The last and final resting place of Enrico Fermi’s housecat. A pox on your house! Eights packs on your grouse. Pancakes filled with swarms of louse.
The doors slide open and I’m in the produce section and IT’S FUCKING HUGE. It’s like an ocean, like the whole universe is just here in this grocery store. HOLY FUCK, those veggies have teeth, man. Fucking TEETH. Those limes have incisors, those oranges have molars, those apples have bicuspids and they’re all razor sharp. And they’re moving up and down in those little fruit and veggie mouths.
Holy shit man, they’ve got eyes. So many eyes! Thousands of eyes, like a fly! They’re watching me. Oh god, they’re moving! They’re jumping from the stand. They’re coming for me. oh God they’re eating me oh God get them off me get them off of me get them offa me getthemoffame getemoff getemoff ohGodohGodohGod
“Sir, sir, calm down. Sir! Sir!”
“What’s going on? What’s the matter with him?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know. Call the police!”