Post by Rick Majors on Oct 20, 2020 19:33:30 GMT -5
He knew better than to go to the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. The place was packed. But he had no other choice. He needed food.
Okay, his grocery list only had four items on it: Pasta, sauce, orange juice, and toilet paper. What could he say? He lived alone and travelled a lot. But he needed to buy those things. Otherwise he'd be eating a big bowl of sadness and shame for dinner again, and he'd had that too often over the years.
So here he was, at the Shop-N-Gouge on a busy Saturday afternoon. He desperately wanted to just get in and out and back to his apartment, but every aisle was packed. This was going to take a while.
Why are there so many kids here? And why are they all so loud and hyper? Itās no secret that kids are usually loud, but these ones seemed every louder than usual, and not just because he was a grumpy old man who rarely left his home. The noise was hurting his ears. The crowds were hurting his head. Welcome to his nightmare.
And then he saw it. Big and orange and black. A bat on one side. A witch on the other. A ghost making its way up the middle. A Halloween display. Of course. That makes sense. It was almost Halloween and the kids were here to pressure their parents into buying as much candy as they possibly could. Being loud and annoying are the best weapons that children have in this situation. Screaming and shouting āBut I want it but I want it but I want it!!!!ā over and over could rival any negotiation tactic or waterboarding technique.
Maybe he should buy some candy. Did kids trick or treat in his building? Heād completely forgotten. All that time in the Underground had really done a number on his memory.
He picked up a big bag of peanut butter cups. If kids came around, heād have to have something to give them. He was a bitter old man, but he didnāt want to be a bitter old man who turns his lights out on Halloween and doesnāt answer the door. Heād always hated those people when he was a kid. Why wouldnāt you at least hand out a few small treats to the younger kids? He had had grown into a much worse person than he'd ever dreamed he would become, but he wasn't going to be that bad.
Okay, just get the four measly things and get out of here. The crowd was getting bigger and it was starting to get tough to hear himself think. The people in front of him were taking up the whole aisle and not moving. They were just standing there, reading labels, not letting anyone else by them.
He was going to lose his mind in this store. This is where it was going to happen. In the canned goods aisle. This is where the Rick Majors story comes to an end. Right in between the fruit cocktail and the tuna.
He turned and walked the other direction. He wasn't going to let this store beat him. He would not go quietly into the night. He would not vanish without a fight. He was going to live on. He was going to survive. He.... where did they put the pasta sauce!? He hated when they rearranged the store. It just made his life so much more difficult.
Oh yeah, that was the sign of a truly youthful person who is filled with life. If youāre mad that theyāve changed the layout in the grocery store, you know youāre old and sad.
He should get more peanut butter cups. Not because he was expecting more kids, either. Heās just need something to help him recover from this traumatic grocery store trip. He could handle brutal matches with some of the toughest people in the world, but spending this much time in a crowded hell hole like this was his breaking point.
The music in grocery stores is sure getting better these days though. When he was a kid, all they ever played were these lame oldies that made young people roll their eyes andā¦ oh.
Two more bags of peanut butter cups.
Will any of the surprise bags on Trauma have peanut butter cups in them? That would be great. It would be a lot better than thumb tacks or brass knuckles or some other weapon. Thereās no way heās going to win this match, so he might as well enjoy some treats.
Look at the other competitors in this match: the North American Champion, the World Champion, the Deadly Rumble winner, the Icemann Invitational winner, and David Hunter. This is a who's who of PCW. Every one of them is a former champion. Every one of them could beat Rick Majors one-on-one. The five of them together could rip him limb from limb. This Halloween show doesnāt have to be that realistic.
Maybe he could just let them fight amongst himself while he pounded back Reeseās under the ringā¦
Thatās not a realistic outcome, but itās more realistic than him winning the match. Or him ever managing to find that fucking pasta sauce.
Okay, his grocery list only had four items on it: Pasta, sauce, orange juice, and toilet paper. What could he say? He lived alone and travelled a lot. But he needed to buy those things. Otherwise he'd be eating a big bowl of sadness and shame for dinner again, and he'd had that too often over the years.
So here he was, at the Shop-N-Gouge on a busy Saturday afternoon. He desperately wanted to just get in and out and back to his apartment, but every aisle was packed. This was going to take a while.
Why are there so many kids here? And why are they all so loud and hyper? Itās no secret that kids are usually loud, but these ones seemed every louder than usual, and not just because he was a grumpy old man who rarely left his home. The noise was hurting his ears. The crowds were hurting his head. Welcome to his nightmare.
And then he saw it. Big and orange and black. A bat on one side. A witch on the other. A ghost making its way up the middle. A Halloween display. Of course. That makes sense. It was almost Halloween and the kids were here to pressure their parents into buying as much candy as they possibly could. Being loud and annoying are the best weapons that children have in this situation. Screaming and shouting āBut I want it but I want it but I want it!!!!ā over and over could rival any negotiation tactic or waterboarding technique.
Maybe he should buy some candy. Did kids trick or treat in his building? Heād completely forgotten. All that time in the Underground had really done a number on his memory.
He picked up a big bag of peanut butter cups. If kids came around, heād have to have something to give them. He was a bitter old man, but he didnāt want to be a bitter old man who turns his lights out on Halloween and doesnāt answer the door. Heād always hated those people when he was a kid. Why wouldnāt you at least hand out a few small treats to the younger kids? He had had grown into a much worse person than he'd ever dreamed he would become, but he wasn't going to be that bad.
Okay, just get the four measly things and get out of here. The crowd was getting bigger and it was starting to get tough to hear himself think. The people in front of him were taking up the whole aisle and not moving. They were just standing there, reading labels, not letting anyone else by them.
Itās a can of beans! How much do you have to know about it!? It contains beans. It costs 89 cents! Just buy it or donāt! Come on!
He was going to lose his mind in this store. This is where it was going to happen. In the canned goods aisle. This is where the Rick Majors story comes to an end. Right in between the fruit cocktail and the tuna.
He turned and walked the other direction. He wasn't going to let this store beat him. He would not go quietly into the night. He would not vanish without a fight. He was going to live on. He was going to survive. He.... where did they put the pasta sauce!? He hated when they rearranged the store. It just made his life so much more difficult.
Oh yeah, that was the sign of a truly youthful person who is filled with life. If youāre mad that theyāve changed the layout in the grocery store, you know youāre old and sad.
He should get more peanut butter cups. Not because he was expecting more kids, either. Heās just need something to help him recover from this traumatic grocery store trip. He could handle brutal matches with some of the toughest people in the world, but spending this much time in a crowded hell hole like this was his breaking point.
The music in grocery stores is sure getting better these days though. When he was a kid, all they ever played were these lame oldies that made young people roll their eyes andā¦ oh.
Two more bags of peanut butter cups.
Will any of the surprise bags on Trauma have peanut butter cups in them? That would be great. It would be a lot better than thumb tacks or brass knuckles or some other weapon. Thereās no way heās going to win this match, so he might as well enjoy some treats.
Look at the other competitors in this match: the North American Champion, the World Champion, the Deadly Rumble winner, the Icemann Invitational winner, and David Hunter. This is a who's who of PCW. Every one of them is a former champion. Every one of them could beat Rick Majors one-on-one. The five of them together could rip him limb from limb. This Halloween show doesnāt have to be that realistic.
Maybe he could just let them fight amongst himself while he pounded back Reeseās under the ringā¦
Thatās not a realistic outcome, but itās more realistic than him winning the match. Or him ever managing to find that fucking pasta sauce.
