Food Fight- Part the Final

Hank’s Armory. Don’s Toy Store. Luke’s Market. Rogers & Himmel Clothiers. The Giggling Goblin Electronics and Game Boutique. Lucy in the Garden with Shears. These were the independently-owned and operated stores that signed on to the Wal-Mart raid that would go down in Thompson County history as the decisive factor which caused the ban of corporate chains in the county lines (Proposition 42 on the local ballot). All told, about a hundred and twenty individuals took part in the assault headed by Luke’s Market.
Planning for the operation took longer than anticipated (this was most likely due to the fact that the purveyors of the Goblin were anti-social by nature and, though they were against the practices of Wal-Mart’s electronics department, it took thirty subscriptions to World of WarCraft to convince them to join). When the battle plans were drawn and all members of the Coalition of the Locals were signed on, it was October 13, fully a month after the L.M. raid on Publix.
That night, the mass of warriors converged in the Supercenter’s parking lot in their Econoline vans, SUVs, and trucks filled to the brim with shotguns. The leaders exited their vehicles and met. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the final chapter in our story,” said Jacob.
Hank of the Armory spat tobacco juice on the cement. “Don’t know about a story. All’s I know is those sons of bitches have been cuttin’ into my profits.”
Jacob nodded. “Yes, Hank, that is in fact why we are here. You all know your roles: stick to your departments and—this is imperative, Hank, I insist that you stop leering at that most likely underage cart cowgirl.” Hank’s attention then returned to the business at hand. “Thank you,” continued Jacob, “no deadly force unless necessary. Watch out for the late-night greeters. They can be crotchety.”
Rebecca Himmel of the clothing pair raised her hand.
“Yes?”
“How, exactly, are we supposed to take control of their entire store with so few people? Surely they will call the police.”
Jacob blinked. “Did you not go to the meetings?”
“No, maternity leave.”
“Oh! How’s your baby doing then?”
“Just great. She looks just like her father.”
A wave of congratulations passed around the circle of business owners. Even Hank tipped his felt cowboy hat. “Well okay then,” said Jacob, “Hank’s group will be the first in. They’ll destroy the store’s mechanical security measures with force and sedate anyone who is looking after the security. I believe Steve Kraznick of the Giggling Goblin has taken care of the telephone lines?”
A short, thin, and pimply man giggled. “Owned it!” He said. “Ten points!” He added.
“We’ll assume that means it was a success. Since that’s already done, we won’t have to worry about calls made from the store’s land line. Now, that’s where it gets tricky. We can reasonably assume that the greeters and older workers won’t have cellular phones, but we can be sure that the younger ones will have cells. That means we’ll have to take care of them quickly—remember Hank, no deadly force.”
“Shit, I only brought twenty bullets for the cameras.”
“Well that’s good.”
“And seventy more for anyone who gets uppity,” Hank added under his breath.
“I heard that. If any bodies show up, I will not hesitate to call the authorities. Look everyone, this should all be very simple and over quickly. Our goal is to capture the heads of department and the night manager. We will then take them to the railroad tracks and send them into exile. Oh, Hank, that reminds me. Get the addresses of the other managers; we need to bag them as well if we want to be successful. That should clear everything up. May God have mercy on our souls for what we are about to do.”
With that, the leaders (those who voted in favor of Proposition 42 would call them Generals) went to their troops and waited for midnight to come around. When it hit, the host entered Wal-Mart and went to work.
Hank’s militia of twenty had the security cameras down within two minutes and the high-school dropout who was manning the office hogtied in another thirty seconds. After they congratulated each other on such a quick time (their practice hogtying sessions had them clocked at a minute, the subject’s thrashings in mind), they gathered their shotguns and made their way to the sporting good section, where they found no resistance. As it turned out, the department closed at ten p.m. Their work already done for them, Armory Group ransacked the manager’s office, gathered the coveted store contact list, and split up to help the other groups.
Toy Group, headed by Don himself, had the most difficulty. Immediately after entering, they found themselves attacked by greeters who noted the suspicious-looking men toting shotguns. After a battle in which many Nerf darts were fired, Toy Group emerged victorious, the greeters fleeing for the safety of their cars in the parking lot. From the entrance, Toy Group made their way to the toy section where they found yet more resistance. Ten night-shift employees had armed themselves with water guns and giant bouncy balls. After barely avoiding a barrage of weak water streams and the fury of purple, bouncing spheres, Don’s group reorganized and fought the defenders back to the bike racks where the underpaid workers surrendered and consented to being held prisoner at the tips of low-budget lightsabers.
As Don and his assistant manager searched for the head of the Wal-Mart toy department, Lucy and her two gardeners entered the garden section only to find three defenders waiting for them. “It would seem,” said Lucy to her troop, “that the rednecks were not as covert as we had hoped.” The defenders answered by holding up lawn sheers and hand shovels. After a few moments of silence, the two groups of three rushed and engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Within minutes, Lucy’s seasoned veterans had downed the defenders amongst the fertilizer bags.
The Giggling Goblin Group (“The Enterprise” as they called themselves) found quite the surprise waiting for them. Wal-Mart workers waited with X-Box 360 controllers in hand. “Look,” said the leader of the Wal-Mart troop, “we hate our boss. The newbie’s gone for the night, so what say we just fire up some Call of Duty?” The Goblin Group consented and thus passed a rather amiable time as their comrades fought for every inch of tiled floor.
Rogers and Himmel Group found their enemy department completely empty, so they elected to get the contact list for the department, drop it off at the L.M. Econoline and go home. After all, Rebecca had a child to care for.
This leaves us with Luke’s Market. Anyone who has entered a Wal-Mart late at night is aware of the vastness of the aisles when they are empty. This was the first thing that struck the L.M. Group. The second thing that struck them was the barrage of apples flung from behind the meat counter. “Cowards!” Yelled Sergeant Andy Katz. “No one hurls produce from the meat department in all of civilization!”
“Curb your anger,” said Lieutenant Jameson from Meat. “Use it to fuel your peach-throwing.”
Katz nodded and moved his platoon from fruit display to fruit display until they were in range. “Open fire!” yelled Katz. His soldiers launched all varieties of pears, but it was the Packham’s Triumph that (in a rather poetically just fashion) did the trick. As the one pound monster fruit flew through the air, the Wal-Mart workers fled the store and barricaded themselves in the cooler.
“Grocery! Advance!” Yelled Jacob from a couple aisles over.
Andy saw the Wal-Mart stockers hiding behind their palettes full of cereal, launching jars of peanut butter, jelly, and bags of coffee at the advancing L.M. soldiers. “Artillery!” Yelled Katz. “Fire!” From two displays behind him, watermelons flung through the air, exploding either directly upon the stockboys’ heads or close enough to render them incapacitated and covered in juice.
“Good show, Produce!” said Jacob.
“Sergeant Katz, look out! They have scooters!” warned a soldier in the rear Apple Division.
Katz looked behind him and saw an arrowhead of employees wielding stale French bread slowly rolling towards his troop. Katz had to think fast. Jacob was out of the question as he was leading his men throughout the aisles, cleaning up resistance with sour milk, bricks and wheels of specialty cheese, and frozen pizzas. He had no idea where the other assault groups were (his mind would have reeled if he had known that at that time, the Goblin Group was trading attack strategies for the Carentan level with the Wal-Mart workers). “Hold them off! Hold them off! Hold the line, men! Fight for your jobs!”
The Produce workers fought valiantly, throwing bag after bag of fruit at the advancing cart-riders, but it was only when Armory Group arrived and held the cart-riders at gunpoint that the advance was stopped.
Soon after this, as the Coalition of Locals emerged from battle victorious, all prisoners (night shift manager included) were loaded into the three Econoline vans. Another two hours after that, the management of the Wal-Mart store was also taken from their homes and loaded onto the vans. From there, the Coalition made their way to the train tracks, where they loaded the Wal-Mart workers onto a train destined fourteen hours away.
Three weeks after that, some called the methods of the Coalition barbaric and “downright illogical,” but those who took part in that daring raid knew that what they did in the early hours of October 14 was not only necessary, but ethically right.
Indeed, after that night, Proposition 42 passed in a landslide and all corporate chains were forced out of business (this left a temporary gap which had previously been filled with McDonald’s, Taco Bell, EB Games, and the like, but which was filled within a week by daring local entrepreneurs). The city was hailed as a model of the American vision and Luke’s Market itself sponsored the demolition of the Wal-Mart building and the ensuing construction of a public park, complete with a soccer field and baseball diamond.