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Toadbert's Riveting Tale of his Trip to the Grocery

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Toadbert's Riveting Tale of his Trip to the Grocery is a tale about a grocery and how Toadbert takes a trip to it and it is riveting.

capter

unious

I was feeling particularly content. A full week of lack of sleep had rendered my days into unintelligible streams of time meshing together into

But I was out of milk so I decided I'd better get some. I was going to need a plan. I sat and prepared. 20 dollars Canadian would be enough of a bargain for four litres of milk. If it wasn't then it might prove enough of a distraction to run away from the store with the milk. I also needed a points card to maximize potential for half a cent off of this purchase.

I glanced forlornly at my dry cereal. It would have to wait. But I ate it dry instead. Now I had the energy to walk to trek to the grocery.

I stepped into the cool garage. There was a large door in the way. The first obstacle. I debated how long it would take to wait for it to decompose as I stared at it. But I found a garage door opener in the car next to me that had not been there yesterday. In fact, neither had the garage.

I was soon able to step into the cool outside world wielding nothing but my wits, a coat and assorted napkins in my pocket. This would be a game changing five minutes of my life. It was a short walk to the end of the driveway. And then a short walk to the sidewalk to the corner of the road. The next sidewalk path was much longer and contained many a pebble scattered on its surface.

Precariously I clambered onto the road to avoid the rocks. A dog barked at me. Fearing imminent demise I ran the next two meters at top speed and then returned to normal. I couldn't waste all my energy. I walked past a yield sign. Its triangular face egged me onward.

I passed by houses which contained people. One particular house contained three children last I was inside it but now contained middle aged men who smoked. And there was a 'for sale' sign on another featuring a doughy real estate agent. A nemesis. The front door looked like a giant chocolate bar. This was utter nonsense as it was just painted to look like so. It was in fact made of metal and paint.

Cars were sitting all over the road on my other side. Left behind by their owners to visit their houses. It was too much to take and I debated turning around to take a route that would ultimately involve thirty more minutes of time and a crucial blood sacrifice. I had already run low on blood and felt light headed all yesterday so I figured I'd probably crumple to the ground if I had to give up more. I braved past the sullen cars.

The next challenge. Crossing the street. Easier said than done. Saying that phrase took a little bit less time than crossing the empty street. I strode past a house that always had their hose watering a patch of dirt. I figured it probably hid a tunnel to China and left it alone.

The compact and noisy streets lead to empty and noisy streets of a district under construction. The cool sky looked like a skybox that someone had cheaply put a gradient texture on. Cars drove past me at speeds that would probably make me stumble a little if I was hit. A quavering breath later I was past the panic attack and realized I was almost at the destination. All that stood partially in my way was a building that wasn't built. I considered the options.

If I jumped in the dug out basement there wouldn't be a way out and I would more than likely not save any time. I kept at the sidewalk.

I felt I was watched by people and sprinted across the road and parking lot into the grocery. I had evaded my enemies yet again.

This was the moment of truth. If milk was in this building it wouldn't be at the cosmetic department in front of the exit. I would have to travel to the frozen goods isle. After the chilling temperatures outside a couple of open fridges was no match for my Canadian skin. I braved the cold and my hand emerged clutching a plastic four litre jug containing my prize.

After jumping obstacles including a frozen dinner stand and a woman with a shopping cart I arrived at a cashier. She was wearing a black apron with a colour of shirt I can't remember anymore. Maybe it wasn't a colour at all but infrared radiation. There was no time to decide on this so I quickly deposited the milk on the scanner. Fearing the worst I braced for an impact of some sort. Things were going downhill fast. I threw the money at her. And the card. I had to hide under the counter to feel safe.

She tried to strangle me with a plastic bag. I was too quick and deposited the milk in it so my head wouldn't fit. Seizing assorted circular pieces of precious metal and a piece of paper that had detailed my failed murder and shopper's savings, I charged through the glass wall and hit a parked car. The siren wailed. Everyone would be after me in moments. Jumping atop all the cars coming at me, I managed to get out of the parking lot without touching the ground or getting shot.

My last jump slipped and I had to perform complex twists, turns and pirouettes to not break my neck or the jug of milk. There was no time to look even one way as I crossed the first street back home.

I reached the unfinished building's basement again. If I went in it now I would at least have this milk to drink and wouldn't die of hunger as soon. But if I kept to the sidewalk there would be no need to die unless another reason popped up. On the other hand, dying of hunger would probably be an OK way to go. I tried to flip the coins I had stolen from the store but they all got lost in the grass. Seizing a manhole cover, I flipped it. It slowly sailed in the air and landed on the side I tossed it. I had forgot to decide which side was heads so I just took the sidewalk.

The sky was as dark as space. The dying lights of stars were a glimpse into the past. My thoughts turned to what would happen if I hurled the milk at a passing car. Or myself. Luckily neither thing happened as I made it to the dog's house again.

But it wasn't there.

Instead a fat robin sat on the fence looking happy. The horrible realization that it had ate the dog and was going to eat me next made me run for my life for the next couple of seconds. I only stopped once I noticed there was a yard sale sign that was missing part of it. Must've ripped off in the wind. Noticing the address was missing, I decided to head to it later.

Before I knew it I was face to face with the garage door again.

I took a step forward. I hit the door and fell backward onto the jug of milk. It burst and covered the driveway with sickly white fluid.

bilius

Defeat tasted like nothing. It smelled like milk. If I didn't get up soon I'd be glued to the driveway and then slowly bake to death. Over the course of a month or two. Either that or the bacteria that would be all over the milk would be all over me.

Vultures circled over head. Or maybe it was the police helicopter that always flew by. I wasted all this milk and now I was going to pay. I tried to get up but gravity had other intentions. I got up anyway ignoring the evil source of infinite energy.

I was all wet. I was going to have to get inside and change clothes if I was going to run for it. But where would I run? Then it struck me, the yard sale with no address. If there was no address no one would find me there. I could wait out however long it took for the milk to vanish back into it's composite elements.

The garage door opener wasn't designed to work wet, yet it did despite the mild stickyness on the corner. I scrambled inside and locked the door. Everything suddenly became boring to me so I sat down for five minutes. I played an imaginary game of solitaire.

But now was the time for action. I changed clothes and took a nap. It's possible I would've never woken up there hadn't been the loud smash of metal hitting wood. A quick look out my window confirmed a car driving down the back alley and made its way through my fence. I did a safety roll out of second storey window to get to the scene of the accident and only fractured a few limbs. Luckily the driver didn't notice me.

It was some old crappy car. It was all brown. And metallic. It was also sitting on the massive pile of dirt I left in the back alley to test the theory of spontaneous combustion. Hitting the dirt pile must've been why the car flew into my fence. The driver got out and immediately busted off a wooden fence piece from the yard on the other side of the alley using one hand. The other hand was flying in all sorts of strange directions and forming complicated gestures. I was unsure of what to make of it.

He did a strange dance, hopping from one foot to the other as he used the fence piece as a shovel to dig out the car. From my hiding spot in the two inch tall lawn I could tell this guy was off his rocker. With an imperious stance he threw the fence piece away as he gave up shovelling. It sailed through the air and landed somewhere a couple city blocks away.

He positioned himself in front of the car, sitting above the ground on the dirt. He braced himself, huffed some air onto his hands and held them out in front of him. It was possible he was going to use telekinesis to move the car. He stood like that for three minutes before deciding it wouldn't work.

The driver abandoned all pretence, climbed onto the roof of the car and began flailing and rolling around. It sounded like he was making absurd bird calls. I figured this guy might be performing some sort of strange breakdance to appease car gods and I decided to get back into my house and brace for some sort of aerial raid. Climbing the smooth wall proved tricky but after three hours I made it inside before any gods swooped down with their explosive swagger. Returning to my nap wouldn't solve this problem. I was going to have to go into the basement donning a pot on my head.

I braved a look outside through a narrow ground level window. The car was now floating above the dirt pile through some unseen force. The driver was also floating in the air, in a sitting position. He was rotating around and around as if he was sitting on the middle of a high octane record player.

This could call for drastic measures. I grabbed a Dust Buster to use as a weapon in case things got ugly. I also grabbed the wall outlet to charge it for when the battery died. Armed, I looked out the window again. The car was now rotating madly in all directions but never moving from it's spot above the dirt. The driver and the car slowly moved toward each other. The driver was smacked by the back bumper and launched through the air onto a nearby house's roof with a crunch. The car fell too. It landed on the power box in the back alley. There was a bright bang and a lot of sparks. Suddenly, each and every light source in the house available that I had turned on to mess with the electric company went out.

I was alone in the afternoon dark.

tritius

I laid down on the sofa. I'd been sitting there all day and now it really was dark in here as the sun set. The Dust Buster offered no words of support as I glanced at it.

"Incoming," said the pot on my head.

"what" I said, so baffled by this I forgot my grammar.

The pot said nothing more and so I took it off and threw it away in a gimpy one-armed laying-down toss. It clanged twice and echoed around the room pointlessly.

This spurred me to action. I had to run away, didn't I? It was about that milk. The milk was the problem. I looked at the pot. It had done nothing wrong. I made amends and re-donned it. Now that I was on my feet I was prepared to do things. I shut the door so the man who had been secretly living in this house all my life but had never let me see him would not hear me. I booted up my computer and found my way to uniju.com/mariowiki.log. If I was running away then I would need this chronicle of my life. Naturally, I couldn't take my whole computer with me, so I printed the log.

A few hours later and 350 pages of paper stacked in front of me, I looked outside. The morning sun had vanquished the terrible darkness, but only sort of in the confines of my computer room. I tried turning on a lamp but the power was still out. I grabbed a stapler and used one staple to bind all 350 pages of the log file.

I looked back at the computer screen. It had served me well. I turned it off for the last time.

But I couldn't leave it all behind. I grabbed my computer tower and opened the side up. Then I realized you're not supposed to poke around inside your computer while the power's on, so I unplugged it. Now I was safe to poke everything.

I didn't know what the hard drive looked like, so I quickly looked it up on Google. I turned the monitor off and quickly located where it was in the still-open tower. As if in surgery, I reached inside the beast and used all my strength to rip out the dull little box, mashing all kinds of stuff like RAM and wires just hanging around.

The remains of the computer tower looked more like a Surgeon Simulator game's outcome. Realizing this, I took pens sitting inside a cup on the computer desk and threw them at the wall opposite. I set the hard drive next to the Dust Buster and its wall charger. I tried to use the Dust Buster to clean up the bits of plastic and circuit board on the floor but it only got the really little stuff.

Next, I looked inside my large wardrobe. It had been imported from Tibbenham of Ipswich, England and was supposed to be used for storing clothes. I had reprogrammed it to store my printer, TV, Gamecube and Nintendo 64 as well as their games. Since my Gamecube was not my trusted ally it was sitting on the shelf originally designed for underwear.

I glanced all over the wardrobe. There was no Narnia inside but there was a DVD player. This didn't matter at all as I needed neither of those things at the moment.

Beside the DVD player was a little handheld electronic game. It was designed to look like a miniature upright cabinet machine like you'd find at an arcade. I pocketed it since the game it played was Pac-Man. I pulled Donkey Kong Land 2 for the Gameboy out of its slot in the Gameboy Player under the Gamecube and pocketed it as well. I heard footsteps coming from the floor above, muffled by the ceiling.

Under the big doors of the wardrobe there were two drawers. Inside these were some Bionicles. I found Toa Iruini and put him beside the other paraphernalia I was taking. I also stored a spoon in here that I ate ice cream with but I didn’t need that either.

My survival kit was looking more complete now. I tried to turn on a light again but forgot the power was still out.

There was a sudden frantic banging at the door followed by hair-raising screams of insanity. I quickly took the chair I had used at the computer desk and wedged it under the door knob, forcing the door shut. He had heard me after all. I didn’t have much time left, and now everything else I was taking had to be out of this room.

I stooped down and grabbed the pens from the floor, as well as my little computer microphone in case I needed to talk to someone on my journey. There was scratching at the door now and I could see fingers trying to reach through the gap between it and the floor. I quickly turned on the TV and changed it to a French-speaking channel to drown out the noise. I glanced at the screen for a moment, but then remembered the power was out and the TV immediately shut off.

Screams from the top of someone’s lungs were now emitting from the other side of the door as well as heavy panting. I threw the pens at the wall again to try and drown out the noise but it didn’t work. I sat down for a moment and tried to consider what else I’d need when the noise stopped.

Suddenly there was the sound of smashing glass down the hallway as well as what could only be someone choking. Then without any warning a jagged piece of wood stabbed right through the hollow plywood door. I immediately recognized it as the leg off the coffee table from the living room down the hall. I changed my mind on any ideas of killing whoever was outside, fight or flight didn’t prepare you for the feral snarling just behind the door.

There was another loud crack as the table lag jabbed through another area of the door. I quickly seized my 350 page IRC log, Dust Buster, charger, Iruini, hard drive, pens and microphone off the desk. I made sure that my games were still in my pockets and that my pot was still securely on my head. I glanced back at the door. There was a third jab at it and a chunk of it forming a shape between all three stab wounds broke off. I could see something horrible and maniacal through it. There was now no longer any gaps between the screams; it was all one long sustained note. Yet, it was changing into something that sounded vaguely dog-life. A bloody and filthy hand reached through and shoved the chair out from under the knob.

I whirled back around and found myself face to face with the window. My hands were quite full, so I had to drop half of my belongings onto the window-sill to open the two latches holding it shut. The roar was echoing madly and quite clearly around the room now that the door had been pierced. As soon as I opened the window, there was a gust of fresh air and lack of noise. I propped it up with my arm and clambered up the couch and into the window-sill. As soon as I slid outside, I grabbed the stuff I had dropped and let the window slam shut. The scream was instantly dulled and I saw the door fly open from within. A humanoid shape stepped inside but I couldn’t make out any details because my body was blocking all of the sunlight from streaming through the window. He was eight-feet tall and had enormous arms. He swiped at the open wardrobe and clobbered my N64 onto the ground, where flying bits of green plastic joined the black from the computer.

Feeling that now would be a good time to leave, I got up. As soon as I shifted my position, sunlight spilled into the room and he noticed I was outside the window. I turned and booked it, sprinting down the short length of my backyard. Escape seemed slow, flat-footed and stiff-armed owing to the thick bundle of paper as well as other goodies stowed under my arm.

The bright sunlight antagonized my panic as I heard the computer room’s window open up again. I glanced back and saw a huge dark shape emerging from the narrow ground level opening.

The car on the dirt. Of course. I’d need to jump my back fence though. I took a running start and just barely clipped the top edge of the fence with my feet, where I then did a fine face plant into the alleyway and dropped everything. I made my way up and whipped the driver’s door open, scrabbled at the packed alley way dirt for all my belongings and hurled them inside before hurling myself inside and pulling the door shut behind me.

I quickly took in the musty smell of the car and found the key in the ignition, a key ring donning five other keys of various metal dangling around it. Before I could ponder what they opened, the pot again said, “Incoming.” I didn’t have time to wonder how it didn’t fall off my head when I fell down when something grabbed the top of the fence with both hands, preparing to haul itself over.