Illustration for article titled How Being Hungry Helped Me Grab some Chicken Before it Was Gone

It's midnight. I gazed around a semi-empty store; a Walmart without people feels akin to a school without the children. A fulfilling pleasantness from the unmistakable sound of silence. It's refreshing. The Lady-Creature makes her way over to the greens as I hurriedly meander toward the meats.


A hushed quiet overtakes the shelves - the meats know their doom approaches.

With anger in my eyes I stared with great fury down upon the red meat. A slow sizzle comes from the package - it's frightened; cooking itself through sheer terror. I slowly avert my gaze to a package of bacon. The hamburger cools, and the sumptuous bacon finds itself as deep as it can in my mouth, because bacon is the taste, the flavor, the rage.


I realize the bacon wasn't cooked, so I harnessed the power of Acid Repunch Disease to cook it as it goes down. It's magnificent.

I looked toward the chicken - pah, poultry, I smite thee! I begin to tremble, my fists clench - i am now the very essence of destruction - and the lady-creature takes my shoulder in her hands.


'McFist,' she muttered. 'McFist, what is it?'

"The shelves are bare. Hell has come to this world"

I burst forth from my N7 parka with respect, because it was a gift and I look damn good in it. With it off my person, and no longer looking as drop-dead handsome as I always am, no matter what I'm wearing, I unsheathed my biceps and began dispensing muscle-justice inside Walmart. Carrots found themselves paired with cauliflower, boxes of goods were pushed back away from the edge of their shelf, thus no longer 'zoned'. Deli sandwiches became Delhi sandwiches because I threw them through the earth to that exact spot.


The chaos was glorious, and was unfortunately cut short, as an employee begged me to stop my assault. I humored them for but a moment, then I broke them in half. Another employee approached, the same one. I looked down where the body lay, and twas gone.

"What sorcery..."I began.

The employee asked if there was anything that could be done to help me this night, and I pointed at the shelves, which now brimmed with food. Confused, I punched the woman in the face. She did not budge, neither had my hand actually moved - the N7 parka again adorning my muscly greatness.


"What madness," I quietly murmured to myself. "I, uh, was just looking at the chicken; trying to decide which kind of breast I wished to partake upon."

I was informed that they were all great choices, and she went about her way, saying she was glad she could help. I told her I'm sure she thought she did. Shade as fuck. After mere seconds of heavy-hitting dialogue, the lady-creature and I sided on the thin chicken breast, as chicken breast rules.


And thus, my story ends. My wild imagination nearly destroying two realities - mine and the one regular people live in, for the sake of chicken. Chicken. Mmmmmm. I crave your essence inside me. So, it just goes to show, if ever you feel wronged, rage at those in question until you snap back into reality, then rage in secret. They'll never know, until now...

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