Upon visiting the Walmart on Dewey Avenue, one starts to notice how easy it can be mistaken for a place where zombies and chaos have invaded. There's almond milk in the greeting card aisles, two women are screaming at a Ukrainian man, and the parking lot looks like "The Day After Tomorrow" when its Winter. Just the other day, someone asked me if I wouldn't mind trading my kidney for twenty pounds of yellow rice.
Store Manager, Rich Perkins, tossed aside these claims, "The Walmart here is a safe and family-friendly place for all Rochester natives."
As soon as he said that a hobo bit him on the shoulder. He began screaming and flailing around, knocking over cereal boxes.
Jasmine Walters, the night shift cashier, retorted, "The second hobo biting this week. Our manager will be out for months." She then excused herself to stop two elderly folks from fighting over the last package of Ensure.
"One day our customers are going to crave human flesh and split into warring factions," Associate Manager, Diana Matthews said, "All it will take is one spaghetti sauce spill or a cashier telling someone they can't bring ten items in the express lane."
She then put on her riot helmet and returned to where the family of possums had made a nest in the bicycle area.