Wednesday, October 8, 2014

5982. MAJOR ROBERT

MAJOR ROBERT
There are robots now, tending the flock. The people
from Walmart are over for dinner  -  they wear their
cheesy shirts, with the pockets where a breast should be.
'Keeping things level', they say. These are the same clowns
who happily fill the grocery shelves in those crazy food-line
aisles  -  a hundred sloppy, happy families buying their
Twinkies together. Ho-ho's. Kix and Cap'n Crunch too.
'We don't want no one excited' they say  -  and then they
say, as well, that such was the headline in their employee's
bulletin just the other day. 'We don't want no one excited.'
The store psychologist was brought in, interviewing those
the most upset  -  seemingly, the big, black lady in housewares
was crying, the hardware guy with the Hitler moustache took
it hard, and that new little girl, in Makeup and Watches, she
too nearly had broken down. 'It's just 'cuz I don't know what
they mean', she babbled. 'Happy days are here again', the 
custodian in Section 14 was singing to himself; 
happy days are here again.

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