Listen up, J-Holes! This is a call to arms. There is an evil among us… an evil that comes in the form of giant yellow smiley faces and storewide sales. That evil? Walmart. No, this isn’t some sort of communistic rant against their corporate monopoly. Yes, this is a for real, real deal, for serious y’all warning: Walmarts are alien settlements in disguise.
“Whoah, Jane, that sounds ridiculous!”
Well, faceless opposer, of course it sounds silly to you. You live in a big city where Walmarts are relatively small and unassuming. But there are others… raise your hand if you live in a small town. Everyone with his or her hand raised: RUN! Wait – not yet. I was recently in a Walmart in a small town. Sure, it was equipped with the standard: everything you need for the kitchen, home, and garden. However, it also had a separate restaurant, an entire functioning auto repair shop, hair and nail salon, the list goes on! What does this spell? Surely, it’s something different in their language, but in English it spells: Colonies! Nay, Biospheres… Biospheres for intergalactic life forms… Biospheres equipped with daycare centers perfect for the assimilation of your children to alien culture… Biospheres for death. And the aliens disguise themselves as employees. I asked one of these ’employees’, “Where’s the bathroom?” He (if they even have gender) replied, “No habla engles” – which I’m pretty sure is Alien for “I don’t know where the bathroom is, because I don’t urinate: I’m an alien.”
“Jane, Jane, Jane – maybe you’re confusing two different meanings of the word ‘alien’.”
Maybe you’re confusing your face with your asshole. Still don’t believe me? Well, you just wait… wait to see what happens when the fluorescent lights and Muzac are no longer enough to sustain their energy levels… wait to see who they start eating… wait to see death. Haven’t you ever wondered why everyone in there is over 75? Why are the lanes all wide enough for motorized wheelchairs? Why are there two aisles dedicated to incontinence? Two Aisles, People! Yeah – ignore me now, but when the manager burps and you smell your grandma, don’t come crying to me.
“Jane, I’ve had enough of this.”
Maybe you’re enough of this.
“Jane, I’m leaving.”
Maybe you’re leaving.
“Yes, I am. That’s what I just said.”
Maybe you’re… what you – maybe…
“*Sigh*”
Guest Columnist