My wounds are still hurting from today. It was a rough day at work, especially considering we were selling twenty-four rolls of toilet paper for $1.99, and the store was packed. Even worse, there were just two grocery clerks in total, one of them being me, and the other being Rob. The store was crowded to the point that moving around in front of the cash meant getting stuck between too many customers, and for sure someone would've stopped us to ask some dumb question (ie. "do you work here?").
I found myself helping this blind customer, when suddenly I heard a scream at the front of the store. Rob and myself dashed to where the sound was coming from and we saw a commando from the IGA supermarket that had taken control of the cash section. One of the enemy clerks was holding a Telexon against the head of a cashier on cash six, standing there crying while the IGA clerk was yelling his demands. The customers were all frozen in fear, and being moved to the side by another two members of the IGA militia.
With our red no frills shirt we stood out in the crowd, and two of the IGA clerks began firing their weapons at us. Rob and I managed a daring escape in the produce backroom using customers as shields. Covered in blood, we managed to resist by throwing rotten tomatoes at the invading forces. We were outnumbered! Two clerks versus the five that had taken control of the store.
"What are we going to do Rob?" I asked, in panic.
"Quick" he yelled, "set your case-cutters from stun, to kill!"
We pulled out our knifes and extended the blade to their maximum length.
"They might overload!" I pointed out.
"Yes," answered calmly Rob, "but we can't let them take over the store and put prices higher!" He had a point there.
"But there are five of them! We are outnumbered!" I cried.
"What's wrong with you, clerk?" Rob screamed, "did you think that joining the no frillian academy was a piece of cake?"
I was about to reply when a voice boomed on the store's PA.
"no frill clerks! Surrender now and you will not be harmed! You are outnumbered and we control most of the store!"
"NEVER!" screamed back Rob over the PA, then he looked at me, "today, my friend, it's a Goudas day to die".
We quickly grabbed a few of the remaining tomatoes, the produce knife and with our case-cutters in hand we dashed outside.
The first two IGA clerks were not expecting us to come out from the produce and attack them. With a swift throw, we neautralized them with the bacteriological lifeforms that were growing on the tomatoes' surface. I never thought I'd use one of no frill's secret weapons, and for a minute I was amazed at their destructive power as the IGA clerks' heads exploded. The other two IGA clerks seeing us began firing. We crawled beside the shelving, feeling the Telexon laser beams hitting the cans of Goudas products all around us.
"Let's split!" ordered Rob "you go through the creamery support room, while I'll cut by the bread section. They will not expect something like this".
"You can count on me!" I yelled, and dashed for the creamery. Unfortunately the IGA clerks had the same idea, and without me realizing it, I was attacked from behind by one of them. I fired my case-cutter at him, but unfortunately my blade was dull and caused minimal damage. Lucky for me he was out of battery power, and as he tossed his Telexon aside, he jumped me, pounding his fist against my head.
I was nailed on the floor trying to get his hands off my neck.
"That's it," I thought, "this is the end" when my hand felt a tub of sour cream, forgotten for who knows how long, under a shelf. I opened it and with all the force I had left, I pushed it against the IGA clerk's face. He quickly let go of my neck and he started holding his face screaming, but it was too late. The sour cream had expired in '96, thus increasing it's devastating effect. The clerk kept on screaming until his jaw fell off. After that he fell to the ground, dead, the sour cream having burnt his brain.
In pain, but still determined to free the store from the enemy, I grabbed an half eaten apple that had been sitting on top of the shelf for quite sometime. It was soft and moldy. The perfect weapon! I dashed to the front, avoiding the bodies of the fallen customers, when I saw the last IGA clerk still holding the Telexon at cashier number six and telling us to surrender or she would've been lasered. Rob seeing me smiled and yelled back from behind a counter:
"Your clerks are all dead! Surrender now or you will die an horrible death in the meat backroom!"
"Never!" yelled the IGA clerk.
Rob stood up and with an elegant movement of his arm, launched the produce knife. The IGA clerk's eyes widened in surprise when the knife sank deeply in the cashier. He watched her silently drop to the floor. Oh well, cashier number six had never been good anyway.
With a banzai scream, I launched my rotten apple, which disintegrated itself against his head. He looked at me in surprise before the fumes knocked him out. We grabbed him, and tied him in the meat backroom for our interrogation purposes.
Once again we had saved the store from the cheap attempts of our adversaries to take over our sector. Captured by an incredible happiness Rob and I began dancing on top of the Pasta aisle, singing the no frill's anthem of victory.