Post by Red Bull Icon on Sept 19, 2020 0:18:59 GMT -5
(When you don’t sleep the night can really drag by. Luckily the Red Bull Icon seldom has any issue keeping himself entertained while most of the real world resets for the next day. Most of the time. Today? Mornings like this? When driving through one of the few parts of Utah not under an immediate evacuation order, but it’s still Utah so it already looks like the immediate area is under an evacuation order. When the eye pleasing Betty that our RBI met the night before turns out to be a nurse and due on shift at 4 AM, and she wants you out of the house before anyone else wakes up. That was if they had somehow managed to sleep through the ruckus. Anyone else like Nurse Betty’s college aged daughter, Chloe, who is home because most universities have transitioned to online only classes for this fall. Well that last one did get us to pulling into the Target parking lot just in time for them to open at 8 AM.
We see Randy Boolzian’s, probably stolen, custom ‘U-Haul’ moving truck swing a wide right going to fast to be safe but not fast enough to be dangerous and come to a screeching halt in a parking stall towards the back. The driver’s side door flies open, pre-recorded cheering plays from the vehicles stereo until the door is closed, and BoolZ strides towards the retail giants little store. Following him we can hear his phone ring. ‘Wrecking Ball’ cover by an all female acapella group. BoolZ takes a long drag from his new box-mod, exhales a plume of vapor one might use to alert a helicopter for rescue or mistake as smoke from a fast-moving uncontrolled wildfire, and then answer the phone.)
BoolZ; “Hello… Cartwright? Yeah sounds familiar… No idea why you’re calling.”
(BoolZ takes another huge hit from his vape, lets loose a cloud that could block out the sun, and responds to the other end of the call.)
BoolZ; “No what sound?... I didn’t hear anything… Yeah, I’ll be there… Shit! The cats on fire or something. Gotta go!”
(BoolZ hangs up without waiting for a response. One more mighty pull from the vape before RBI is almost into the Target. Surprisingly busy for the first thing in the morning. So busy in fact there’s almost a line. BoolZ bobs and weaves and snakes his way through the crowd masterfully. Small hiccups here, tiny flaws there, and a very obnoxiously rude individual pushing his way past the group.
BoolZ isn’t fazed and simply not impressed with the child’s antics. He’s got more important queries for the day. Dog treats, Red Bull, and a birthday present. First stop is the dog treats, and upon arrival in the aisle RBI is greeted to the image of a pale little frail looking old lady. Maybe a lady. Maybe a loose skinned bag of bones.)
Old Lady; “Oh I don’t know. I don’t know. I try this and that and the other and another. I just don’t know!”
(Her voice is desperate and weak. Her words are hollow but full of grandeur.)
Old Lady; “Oh sunny, might you spare a moment to help a weary soul?”
BoolZ; “Me? Probably not the best…”
Old Lady; “See my dog, her name is Final Princess, FP for short and well she stinks. I named for Final Princess because I’m not filled with confidence that I’ll outlive the shame of this foul-smelling beast. Oh dearie I’ve tried everything. Simply everything. Chicken and wheat and potatoes and turkey and salmon and… oh poo I’m just at my wits end! She’s quite plainly it would seem have a food allergy, but for the life of me I cannot deduce what it may or may not be.”
(BoolZ is uncomfortable when other people overshare. He takes a small step to the side barely slowing down to move around the old woman, and a grab the bag of Newman’s Jerky.)
BoolZ; “Yeah you obviously don’t know if you’re comin’ or goin’ if you’re asking for my advice, but have you tried just not giving your little doggy heavily processed slop, and instead go for some original down-home cooking? Maybe? Maybe. Either way, I’m sure you’ll find your way, or someone will come by and lead you away.”
Old Lady; “Like you?”
BoolZ; “Oh, tempting, but no.”
(BoolZ, with honestly a bit more hustle in his step makes his escape. Next on the list the Red Bull, and the reason we have a full-sized shopping cart.)
BoolZ; “Crazy.”
(BoolZ heads down the aisle past the cleaning supplies, past the paper goods, health and beauty, and rounds a corner near the small market fresh refrigerator section. As he does, he watches a man barely looking as he hands cartons of eggs to a woman that then places them into the basket. He checks each carton. Examines every protein rich little pod. He even resorts to combining the best collection of good cholesterol capsules into a single container. So much care. So little observation. He had taken long enough the woman has become distracted, and her focus shifted to the first appearance of pumpkin spice coffee creamer of the season.)
Guy; “What the hell, Jane!?
(The eggs fall to the floor with a crack. The guy turns around to see the mess haphazardly stepping in the slimy whites, slips, and lands straight on his butt with a thud. She’s clearly conflicted. The desire to point and laugh only trumped by the desperation to have a nice peaceful day off for a change. He can get so pissy. BoolZ is under no such dilemma as he does in fact point and laugh.)
Jane; “Dick are you ok?”
(RBI can see the concern on her face and he’s going that way anyway. Is now. He offers a hand to the fallen Dick.)
BoolZ; “Ouch, you alright.”
(Dick now on his feet, red faced, and a hole in his khaki pants.)
BoolZ; “Got torn a new one, huh?”
Dick; “Oh this wife of mine. Can’t ever just be supportive. Always putting herself before me. What of my meringue? I implore her to perform but a single simple task and am then subjected to her complete and utter failure. Why I have a good mind to…”
BoolZ; “You should kick her in the face.”
(Shocked Dick and Jane both look at the Red Bull Icon unsure of what they just heard.)
Jane; “Well…”
Dick; “No! What manner of ill intentions have beseeched you? I was about to suggest throwing her across my knee and paddling her tushy until she’s flush with anticipation.”
BoolZ; “Oh! Much better. Last thing you’d want to do if you thought she was making you look like a fool would be to then base your entire sense of being around what you just did to her. Your idea is way better. Eggs-cellent even.”
Jane; “Damnit.”
Dick; “Eggs-xactly, good sir! Huzah!”
Jane; “Puns are fun.”
Dick; “Yours is my sweet.”
(BoolZ satisfied all is well takes his leave and continues on his way to the Red Bull. He masterfully maneuvers though the morons, malcontents, and just really slow moving sons of bitches. A left and we’re almost there.)
BoolZ; “Messenger from heaven.”
(In awe BoolZ quietly slows his approach so as to not startle the burly man stocking the Red Bull. One step and a pause. Two steps and a pause. Cautiously he inches closer. Patiently he positions for the most effective attack. Calmly he reaches. One case. Two case. Threefourfivesix! Case in an instant, and now satisfied with his haul and a cart properly weighed down he spins, steps up, pushes, and rides the trolley to freedom with his pilfered goods.
And what a trolley it is. So sad. All overly big and round. Made of plastic. Red and smooth. It’s a yellow wig when what the world needs is a bad ass beard. This cart makes us sad. Luckily we have the dog treats and the Red Bull and now we’re off for the birthday present.
It’s been years since BoolZ has seen his pseudo nephew. It’s been years since he’d been in Chicago. His mother said he’s into GI Joe. GI Joe? Upon arriving at the toy aisle BoolZ wastes no time scanning all of the brightly colored boxes. He wizzes past the Lego. Past the board games. Past the Marvel and Fortnite. Past the Pokemon. Past the Batman, Transformers, Jurassic Park, so many wrestling promotions, Star Wars, and Ghostbusters to no avail. Not a single GI Joe. BoolZ turns the corner and almost crashes into the very rude kid from the store entrance. If we knew his name, we’ve already forgotten it. It’s ok though. I don’t think he expect many people, or even himself, to use his name anyway.
And before him a short and plump in all the best ways curly haired Latina. Not a midget, but no more than five foot tall. If asked BoolZ would say he was looking at her name badge. Dotty. But in truth he was doing the split second mental calculations required to make a well-educated guess as to how perky those tits must be.)
No Name; “Look just go look! They looked for me last week, and the week before that. They looked two months ago and the month ago before that month now go. Your website says you got them, and I want them. I’m winning my April and Foot Soldier pack today. I always win because I get you people to do your job and go find my stuff.”
(BoolZ can’t just let...)
Dotty; “I don’t care. I’m not looking you self entitled little prick. I don’t care if you somehow equate buying a toy as winning something last week or the week before or the week before or any other week. I’m not looking! I don’t care! No one cares about your history lesson! And if someone did look in the back last week then congratulations, I hope you thanked them. This week though you can fuck right the fuck off before I have to stab a bitch!”
(Tremendous.)
Dotty; “What!?!”
(The nameless kid is speechless. He stammers, he staggers, he backs up turns around and leaves. Quickly without saying a word. Shocked. Dotty looks at BoolZ next. RBI puts his hands up to make peace.)
BoolZ; “Please don’t stab me.”
Dotty; “Oh that. No, you’re not a scalper or you would have been here 10 minutes ago rifling through the Hot Wheels I just put out. It’s a good thing too. My manager collects like every line of toys here. Refuses to buy them here though because he doesn’t want to be ‘that guy’. Says we can say whatever we want to scalpers. He hates them. You do look like you’re looking for something though?”
BoolZ; “GI…”
Dotty; “Please don’t say GI Joe.”
BoolZ; “Joe.”
Dotty/BoolZ; “Damnit!”
Dotty; “It’s alright. Just don’t say Cobra Trooper.”
BoolZ; “Cobra Trooper. It’s for a gift. I didn’t see any GI Joe on the shelves.”
Dotty; “Yeah we’ve been out for weeks. Everyone and the mother is hunting that line. But actually you might be in luck. We’ve got a reset next week, and I happened to see a couple boxes of GI Joe on the last truck. I can take a look, see if I can find them, if you’re willing to hang out for a couple minutes.”
BoolZ; “Yeah, of course. That’d be great.”
(Dotty saunters off leaving the Red Bull Icon to wonder. Her short little legs leading up, can’t be all the way up because she’s short but up, to her plump round rump that sways righteously out of view. She looked back.)
BoolZ; “Geez look at this stuff. Star Wars Black Series? Transformers Earthrise? Jurassic Park Amber Collection? Power Ranger Lightning Collection? Holy shit it’s like they made all the toys I wanted growing up better for when I could actually afford them all.”
(Our attention to pulled away from a round of mostly soft womanly laughter coming from the double doors leading to the back.)
BoolZ; “I gotta see this GI Joe. And Ninja Turtles, too! What’s a Marvel Legend? They should make one of me. I’m pretty damn legendary.”
(It doesn’t take long before Dotty returns. Empty handed but primped?)
BoolZ; “Anything? Doesn’t look like you had much luck.”
Dotty; “As a matter of fact it might just be your lucky day. I did find some boxes, but I can’t reach them.”
BoolZ; “You can’t reach?”
Dotty; “Hey, I’m short and I’m not climbing all over the place I’m a short fucking gorgeous girl. And the ladder is heavy.”
BoolZ; “Oh, then maybe I could help?”
Dotty; “Let’s go.”
(Some time later BoolZ is seen walking from the Target. A cart full of Red Bull, a bag of dog treats, two GI Joe Classified Series Assault on Cobra Island Cobra Trooper figures, and Dotty’s panties in his pocket. He gets to the ‘U-Suk’ Mobile, loads the Red Bull, opens the doggy jerky, and gets in.)
BoolZ; “I know, I know. Target rich environment, Conni. Think we’ll get to Chicago in time?”
(Our scene ends with the Red Bull Icon, Conni, and a pair of Cobra Troopers heading out for as many Targets as they can find on their way to Chicago.)
We see Randy Boolzian’s, probably stolen, custom ‘U-Haul’ moving truck swing a wide right going to fast to be safe but not fast enough to be dangerous and come to a screeching halt in a parking stall towards the back. The driver’s side door flies open, pre-recorded cheering plays from the vehicles stereo until the door is closed, and BoolZ strides towards the retail giants little store. Following him we can hear his phone ring. ‘Wrecking Ball’ cover by an all female acapella group. BoolZ takes a long drag from his new box-mod, exhales a plume of vapor one might use to alert a helicopter for rescue or mistake as smoke from a fast-moving uncontrolled wildfire, and then answer the phone.)
BoolZ; “Hello… Cartwright? Yeah sounds familiar… No idea why you’re calling.”
(BoolZ takes another huge hit from his vape, lets loose a cloud that could block out the sun, and responds to the other end of the call.)
BoolZ; “No what sound?... I didn’t hear anything… Yeah, I’ll be there… Shit! The cats on fire or something. Gotta go!”
(BoolZ hangs up without waiting for a response. One more mighty pull from the vape before RBI is almost into the Target. Surprisingly busy for the first thing in the morning. So busy in fact there’s almost a line. BoolZ bobs and weaves and snakes his way through the crowd masterfully. Small hiccups here, tiny flaws there, and a very obnoxiously rude individual pushing his way past the group.
BoolZ isn’t fazed and simply not impressed with the child’s antics. He’s got more important queries for the day. Dog treats, Red Bull, and a birthday present. First stop is the dog treats, and upon arrival in the aisle RBI is greeted to the image of a pale little frail looking old lady. Maybe a lady. Maybe a loose skinned bag of bones.)
Old Lady; “Oh I don’t know. I don’t know. I try this and that and the other and another. I just don’t know!”
(Her voice is desperate and weak. Her words are hollow but full of grandeur.)
Old Lady; “Oh sunny, might you spare a moment to help a weary soul?”
BoolZ; “Me? Probably not the best…”
Old Lady; “See my dog, her name is Final Princess, FP for short and well she stinks. I named for Final Princess because I’m not filled with confidence that I’ll outlive the shame of this foul-smelling beast. Oh dearie I’ve tried everything. Simply everything. Chicken and wheat and potatoes and turkey and salmon and… oh poo I’m just at my wits end! She’s quite plainly it would seem have a food allergy, but for the life of me I cannot deduce what it may or may not be.”
(BoolZ is uncomfortable when other people overshare. He takes a small step to the side barely slowing down to move around the old woman, and a grab the bag of Newman’s Jerky.)
BoolZ; “Yeah you obviously don’t know if you’re comin’ or goin’ if you’re asking for my advice, but have you tried just not giving your little doggy heavily processed slop, and instead go for some original down-home cooking? Maybe? Maybe. Either way, I’m sure you’ll find your way, or someone will come by and lead you away.”
Old Lady; “Like you?”
BoolZ; “Oh, tempting, but no.”
(BoolZ, with honestly a bit more hustle in his step makes his escape. Next on the list the Red Bull, and the reason we have a full-sized shopping cart.)
BoolZ; “Crazy.”
(BoolZ heads down the aisle past the cleaning supplies, past the paper goods, health and beauty, and rounds a corner near the small market fresh refrigerator section. As he does, he watches a man barely looking as he hands cartons of eggs to a woman that then places them into the basket. He checks each carton. Examines every protein rich little pod. He even resorts to combining the best collection of good cholesterol capsules into a single container. So much care. So little observation. He had taken long enough the woman has become distracted, and her focus shifted to the first appearance of pumpkin spice coffee creamer of the season.)
Guy; “What the hell, Jane!?
(The eggs fall to the floor with a crack. The guy turns around to see the mess haphazardly stepping in the slimy whites, slips, and lands straight on his butt with a thud. She’s clearly conflicted. The desire to point and laugh only trumped by the desperation to have a nice peaceful day off for a change. He can get so pissy. BoolZ is under no such dilemma as he does in fact point and laugh.)
Jane; “Dick are you ok?”
(RBI can see the concern on her face and he’s going that way anyway. Is now. He offers a hand to the fallen Dick.)
BoolZ; “Ouch, you alright.”
(Dick now on his feet, red faced, and a hole in his khaki pants.)
BoolZ; “Got torn a new one, huh?”
Dick; “Oh this wife of mine. Can’t ever just be supportive. Always putting herself before me. What of my meringue? I implore her to perform but a single simple task and am then subjected to her complete and utter failure. Why I have a good mind to…”
BoolZ; “You should kick her in the face.”
(Shocked Dick and Jane both look at the Red Bull Icon unsure of what they just heard.)
Jane; “Well…”
Dick; “No! What manner of ill intentions have beseeched you? I was about to suggest throwing her across my knee and paddling her tushy until she’s flush with anticipation.”
BoolZ; “Oh! Much better. Last thing you’d want to do if you thought she was making you look like a fool would be to then base your entire sense of being around what you just did to her. Your idea is way better. Eggs-cellent even.”
Jane; “Damnit.”
Dick; “Eggs-xactly, good sir! Huzah!”
Jane; “Puns are fun.”
Dick; “Yours is my sweet.”
(BoolZ satisfied all is well takes his leave and continues on his way to the Red Bull. He masterfully maneuvers though the morons, malcontents, and just really slow moving sons of bitches. A left and we’re almost there.)
BoolZ; “Messenger from heaven.”
(In awe BoolZ quietly slows his approach so as to not startle the burly man stocking the Red Bull. One step and a pause. Two steps and a pause. Cautiously he inches closer. Patiently he positions for the most effective attack. Calmly he reaches. One case. Two case. Threefourfivesix! Case in an instant, and now satisfied with his haul and a cart properly weighed down he spins, steps up, pushes, and rides the trolley to freedom with his pilfered goods.
And what a trolley it is. So sad. All overly big and round. Made of plastic. Red and smooth. It’s a yellow wig when what the world needs is a bad ass beard. This cart makes us sad. Luckily we have the dog treats and the Red Bull and now we’re off for the birthday present.
It’s been years since BoolZ has seen his pseudo nephew. It’s been years since he’d been in Chicago. His mother said he’s into GI Joe. GI Joe? Upon arriving at the toy aisle BoolZ wastes no time scanning all of the brightly colored boxes. He wizzes past the Lego. Past the board games. Past the Marvel and Fortnite. Past the Pokemon. Past the Batman, Transformers, Jurassic Park, so many wrestling promotions, Star Wars, and Ghostbusters to no avail. Not a single GI Joe. BoolZ turns the corner and almost crashes into the very rude kid from the store entrance. If we knew his name, we’ve already forgotten it. It’s ok though. I don’t think he expect many people, or even himself, to use his name anyway.
And before him a short and plump in all the best ways curly haired Latina. Not a midget, but no more than five foot tall. If asked BoolZ would say he was looking at her name badge. Dotty. But in truth he was doing the split second mental calculations required to make a well-educated guess as to how perky those tits must be.)
No Name; “Look just go look! They looked for me last week, and the week before that. They looked two months ago and the month ago before that month now go. Your website says you got them, and I want them. I’m winning my April and Foot Soldier pack today. I always win because I get you people to do your job and go find my stuff.”
(BoolZ can’t just let...)
Dotty; “I don’t care. I’m not looking you self entitled little prick. I don’t care if you somehow equate buying a toy as winning something last week or the week before or the week before or any other week. I’m not looking! I don’t care! No one cares about your history lesson! And if someone did look in the back last week then congratulations, I hope you thanked them. This week though you can fuck right the fuck off before I have to stab a bitch!”
(Tremendous.)
Dotty; “What!?!”
(The nameless kid is speechless. He stammers, he staggers, he backs up turns around and leaves. Quickly without saying a word. Shocked. Dotty looks at BoolZ next. RBI puts his hands up to make peace.)
BoolZ; “Please don’t stab me.”
Dotty; “Oh that. No, you’re not a scalper or you would have been here 10 minutes ago rifling through the Hot Wheels I just put out. It’s a good thing too. My manager collects like every line of toys here. Refuses to buy them here though because he doesn’t want to be ‘that guy’. Says we can say whatever we want to scalpers. He hates them. You do look like you’re looking for something though?”
BoolZ; “GI…”
Dotty; “Please don’t say GI Joe.”
BoolZ; “Joe.”
Dotty/BoolZ; “Damnit!”
Dotty; “It’s alright. Just don’t say Cobra Trooper.”
BoolZ; “Cobra Trooper. It’s for a gift. I didn’t see any GI Joe on the shelves.”
Dotty; “Yeah we’ve been out for weeks. Everyone and the mother is hunting that line. But actually you might be in luck. We’ve got a reset next week, and I happened to see a couple boxes of GI Joe on the last truck. I can take a look, see if I can find them, if you’re willing to hang out for a couple minutes.”
BoolZ; “Yeah, of course. That’d be great.”
(Dotty saunters off leaving the Red Bull Icon to wonder. Her short little legs leading up, can’t be all the way up because she’s short but up, to her plump round rump that sways righteously out of view. She looked back.)
BoolZ; “Geez look at this stuff. Star Wars Black Series? Transformers Earthrise? Jurassic Park Amber Collection? Power Ranger Lightning Collection? Holy shit it’s like they made all the toys I wanted growing up better for when I could actually afford them all.”
(Our attention to pulled away from a round of mostly soft womanly laughter coming from the double doors leading to the back.)
BoolZ; “I gotta see this GI Joe. And Ninja Turtles, too! What’s a Marvel Legend? They should make one of me. I’m pretty damn legendary.”
(It doesn’t take long before Dotty returns. Empty handed but primped?)
BoolZ; “Anything? Doesn’t look like you had much luck.”
Dotty; “As a matter of fact it might just be your lucky day. I did find some boxes, but I can’t reach them.”
BoolZ; “You can’t reach?”
Dotty; “Hey, I’m short and I’m not climbing all over the place I’m a short fucking gorgeous girl. And the ladder is heavy.”
BoolZ; “Oh, then maybe I could help?”
Dotty; “Let’s go.”
(Some time later BoolZ is seen walking from the Target. A cart full of Red Bull, a bag of dog treats, two GI Joe Classified Series Assault on Cobra Island Cobra Trooper figures, and Dotty’s panties in his pocket. He gets to the ‘U-Suk’ Mobile, loads the Red Bull, opens the doggy jerky, and gets in.)
BoolZ; “I know, I know. Target rich environment, Conni. Think we’ll get to Chicago in time?”
(Our scene ends with the Red Bull Icon, Conni, and a pair of Cobra Troopers heading out for as many Targets as they can find on their way to Chicago.)
