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Amos Goes Grocery Shopping
by Michael Frissore

“Clean up in aisle nine,” the voice on the loudspeaker proclaimed. Amos, an every day regular at the supermarket, appeared to be a little drunk, much to the chagrin of almost all of the shoppers. He had knocked over dozens of cans of mushroom gravy, declaring it the “Boston Mushroom Gravy Party,” and protesting the market’s “communist gravy tax.” Amos spoke loudly of the “Mushroom Manifesto,” as he read from what everybody could see was actually the book The Pokey Little Puppy.

He was particularly irksome to the elderly patrons, as he asked several of them, “When you die will you be buried in mushroom gravy? No, because your family can’t afford the taxes!” He spoke with The Pokey Little Puppy in one hand and a Wiffle Ball bat in the other, using it both as a microphone and to whack women he took a liking to on the behind. He wandered about, wearing a disgustingly filthy gray trench coat, an equally filthy beret, and no shoes or socks. It had somehow become Tim’s job to put a stop to this. He tried, but only received a Wiffle bat to the face and testicles for his effort.

Amos pleaded with everyone to join him in his crusade as he journeyed to the fruit and vegetable section. Seeing that no one was climbing on board, he proceeded to throw tomatoes into the air and swing at them with the Wiffle Ball bat, telling anyone who would listen that Tony Conigliaro and Dwight Evans didn’t die for this cause to have everyone ignore their plight, a bizarre statement, especially considering that Evans, in fact, was still alive.

Store managers and assistant managers were now approaching Amos to ask him to leave. He made a quick run for it, then stopped to smash some watermelons with his bat, a la Gallagher. As they came closer to him, Amos ran again, this time grabbing some pineapples and stuffing them into the dirt of a nearby plant in order to grow the “Pineapple Tree of Peace.”

The police finally arrived to escort Amos out of the store. Before they placed the handcuffs on him he quickly produced a red Magic Marker from his trench coat and drew a swastika on his forehead. Unfortunately, one of the officers thought it was a gun and shot Amos dead right there in the supermarket. Much to the surprise of the officer, shoppers rejoiced at the fallen pest that was Amos.