What Bob did on Black Friday

Humming to himself, Bob skipped down the aisle of his local Wal-mart. Today was such a joyous day! He still had some turkey left over from the National Hobo Turkey Dinner yesterday, and lots of normal people were out at the mall for some reason.

Bob leaned over to inspect a price tag. WOW! His eyes bugged out. This price was... RIDICULOUS! What was wrong with America that they would buy  a Barbie doll for TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS! Bob pursed his lips, attempting to think hard about this problem. Slowly, the answer dawned on him.

What did all little girls do as a rite of passage as they became teenagers? Why, chop up their dolls of course. And to do that they would need a doll.

Bob beamed. Of course! He felt so proud of himself for delving into the deep, twisted pit of the female psyche. He had done what no man had done before.

Bob felt so proud of himself that he waltzed up to the bored, teenage clerk and asked if he could have a Barbie doll, no charge. He was rewarded with a sorta scared look from the clerk. As he was pondering what the clerk was trying to do, the tough, skinny, vegan security guards grabbed him from behind and kicked him out the door.

Bob was so sad, he broke down crying in front of the store. He was that places's karma: people were so freaked out by the sight of him that they gave Wal-Mart a twenty foot berth. The store went out of business soon after; no one would touch the place with a fifty foot pole, even if you had payed them (which, coincidentally, they eventually tried to do).

So in the end, Bob the Hobo won. He had ruined Black Friday for the populace.

And Bob saw what he had done and was Proud.