As God is my witness, I will not sit in front of this computer doing nothing all night again! I mean it. I do! Oh, fine.
Walmart is kinda like the spam of discount stores, don't you think?
When I lived it London there was a photo-development place called "Supa-Snaps" (as in snapshots). Every time I passed one, I got hysterical giggles because I couldn't help but hear the name being said in this 70s pimp voice: "Sooopaah Shnaaaps!"
There was a period in my life, in college, just after resolving my eating disorder, when I was stalked by food items. Giant food items. Actual, giant, food items. I'd go to the grocery store, turn a corner, and find myself face-to-face with a giant Oreo with legs. Sure, it was just some hapless git in a suit, trying to earn a buck, but I'm sorry: That was just an experience I didn't need. The worst, though--the worst was the Pancake.
It was spring, and I had a light class load and nothing to do between lunch and my afternoon theatre class. (The life of a theatre major. I highly recommend it. Unless you want to, you know, get a job someday.) So I decided to kill time by going to Music Appreciation with my friend Jeannie. The music building sat on an oval drive at the edge of campus, a peaceful drive with grass and a path of trees down the center and sloping greensward all around. Students were spread out on the center lawn as well as on the surrounding slopes, basking in the sun. It was a beautiful, sunny day.
And then we saw it.
For a moment, we just stared, standing stock still. "What the hell is it?", Jeannie murmered beside me. "Is it a ... a ... cookie?"
"No," I said. "I think it's a pancake."
And indeed it was a pancake, my friends. A giant, looming, grinning, maniacal flapjack. A hapless bicyclist was speeding around the oval, glancing back in what (from where we stood) looked like abject terror. And loping after him was this ... thing. It looked much taller than a man, though it was difficult to get any real perspective, what with the slope and the distance. We could hear it shouting something as it ran after the poor cyclist, but if it was trying to communicate in words, they were unintelligible. I was reminded of the mythical windego, for it looked preternaturally skinny from the side--just a line with two flashing sticks for legs. But then...then it turned its hideous countenance toward us, and it was a huge, round, flat circle with an evil grin, glaring eyes, and ... a skirt and pink bow on top of its monstrous head?
"Oh, God," breathed Jeannie. "I think it's coming for us."
For a second neither of us moved as the thing began stomping by reclining students, moving toward us. Then it began not to stomp, but to run. We did what any rational 19-year old girls would do when faced with a giant homicidal food item. We hauled ass for the music building.
There was a line of bushes in front of the building, and we dove behind them. We were laughing hysterically and honest-to-god a little petrified at the same time. "Is it...is it...gone?" panted Jeannie after a moment.
"I think so," I choked out. "I'll check." Crouching down, I snuck toward the bushes and slowly began to stand up so I could peer out from behind them--when suddenly, the monster's giant head reared up from the other side like a bad moon rising. It was waving its skinny little arms and screeching out, "Blah! Blaaah blaaahhh blaaah bla blaaaaaaahhhh!"
"AARCKKK!" I screeched, and we both lunged into the building against a tide of exiting students.
We fought our way up the stairs to the second floor balcony and quickly scanned the front of the building...but the thing had disappeared. After class (from which we learned absolutely nothing that day, I can tell you), we walked through the campus square in a daze. Had it really happened? Had we been chased by a breakfast item?? We ran into a fellow theatre major--though she was of the "techie" persuasion and so of course we didn't really run in the same circles (you'll know what I mean if you've ever been involved in college "the-atre", lucky you). But today we rushed toward the familiar face.
"Gerri!" Jeannie hollered, "You won't believe what just happened. It was totally surreal. We were chased by a giant pancake!" Gerri stared at us for a moment, then tilted her head.
"Was it wearing a green skirt?"
I thought Jeannie was going to have a seizure. "No, Gerri," she huffed, "This one was wearing purple pants. How the hell many giant pancakes do you think there ARE around campus!?" Gerri shrugged. "Oh, yeah," she said, "I saw it. It was chasing somebody through the engineering building."