Unfortunately, my job takes me into Walmart about five hours a week. The hillbilly hell I have to endure is sometimes unbearable. A couple months ago, I was able to extract a little revenge against a couple local inbreeds.
I was walking through the hardware department. As I turned the corner, I almost get ran over by a booger faced boy on a Huffy Thrust Flex General Lee BMX bike. I grabbed the handle bars and stopped him from crashing into me. The kid gave me a cross eyed stare for a moment and pedaled off. I said nothing.
A few minutes later, I was in the automotive department checking out fuzzy dice. I looked up to see the little bastard flying around the corner and race past me. I said nothing.
Finally, I was walking along the back wall by the toy section. From four aisles away, I see the kid racing towards me again. I waited for him and blocked the aisle when he got close. I had had enough. I told the kid he needed to put the bike away and stop riding around the store. At that point, his mother appeared out of nowhere.
"Don't you tell my child what to do!" she yelled.
"Lady, your kid has almost hit me three times."
"I'm buying him a bike. I need to know if he likes it."
I replied, "He's going to get hurt, or hurt someone else."
Her face turned beat red with anger. "It's none of your business you fat ass."
I thought to myself. "Fat ass? That's the best she can do?"
I took a deep breath, counted to ten and said,"Listen you cretinous, slack jawed, buck toothed hillbilly slut. You’re only qualification for motherhood is a womb that happened to catch the sperm of a passing truck driver. Take your white trash scrotum faced, cross eyed progeny back to the god forsaken trailer park you crawled out of and watch Ducky Dynasty."
I walked away triumphantly as her head exploded from trying to process too many three syllable words.
I was walking through the hardware department. As I turned the corner, I almost get ran over by a booger faced boy on a Huffy Thrust Flex General Lee BMX bike. I grabbed the handle bars and stopped him from crashing into me. The kid gave me a cross eyed stare for a moment and pedaled off. I said nothing.
A few minutes later, I was in the automotive department checking out fuzzy dice. I looked up to see the little bastard flying around the corner and race past me. I said nothing.
Finally, I was walking along the back wall by the toy section. From four aisles away, I see the kid racing towards me again. I waited for him and blocked the aisle when he got close. I had had enough. I told the kid he needed to put the bike away and stop riding around the store. At that point, his mother appeared out of nowhere.
"Don't you tell my child what to do!" she yelled.
"Lady, your kid has almost hit me three times."
"I'm buying him a bike. I need to know if he likes it."
I replied, "He's going to get hurt, or hurt someone else."
Her face turned beat red with anger. "It's none of your business you fat ass."
I thought to myself. "Fat ass? That's the best she can do?"
I took a deep breath, counted to ten and said,"Listen you cretinous, slack jawed, buck toothed hillbilly slut. You’re only qualification for motherhood is a womb that happened to catch the sperm of a passing truck driver. Take your white trash scrotum faced, cross eyed progeny back to the god forsaken trailer park you crawled out of and watch Ducky Dynasty."
I walked away triumphantly as her head exploded from trying to process too many three syllable words.
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