2.d.vi
“Move! Move!
Move!” the blazered tech boy shouted, motioning his agents through the
entrance to the Price Killers Wholesale Superstore. “Scout team reports major activity with our
targets. Head directly to the back of
the store. Double time it ladies. This is our moment to shine.”
The standard
issue tech boys charged onto the sales floor shouting various peppy slogans.
“Let’s show
‘em what we’re made of!”
“Death before
dishonor!”
Of the boys at
the head of the charge, only one managed to squeak out an “oh crap” before
being pummeled by a greed-puppetted patron.
Unconsciousness took them immediately.
The tech boys
in the middle of the pack were able to scream multiple variations of “oh crap”
as they slid to a stop, more than eager to turn back. A few even called out for their mommies as
they were beaten limp by the bodies of compromised customers jammed on the ends
of wild swinging greed-tentacles.
Those bringing
up the rear of the charge scattered without any physical damage, but more than
one would suffer the dishonor of discharging a few involuntary squirts of urine
into his pants as he frantically sought shelter.
The scene was
too much for the fragile mind of shorty-shorts tech boy. He completely lost it and ran screaming. But,
without his wits, he ran headlong into the heart of the superstore, not out.
