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November 23, 2017 2 min read
Out of nowhere, a three hundred pound man in an Avengers t-shirt barrels through the crowd, stomping on a child who falls to the ground clutching a Steam gift card between rigor-mortis frozen fingers.
An old man is pushed violently under a shelf, and is torn to pieces by the starving hordes who mercilessly tear apart a skid of Hatchimals, one proudly standing atop the scattered remains of his body, letting out a hellish warcry while holding his skull and spine, still connected. In the washroom, a man buries his head in a urinal and sobs while three more gang beat a teen in the bathroom stall for blu-ray collector set of the Star Wars prequels. A woman uses a broken GTA V disc to slice the throat of her best friend who was reaching for the last Google Home.
Her eyes are filled with hatred as she falls to the ground and bleeds out before being quietly shuffled into a corner. A solemn woman with pronounced cheekbones and dark circles beneath her eyes, a strand of greasy black hair hanging in front of her face, stands atop a check out counter, a bible held betwixt sweating hands, and screams psalms from at the top of her lungs, as the gathering masses bow to a burning effigy of Razer gaming mice, facing North at the front of the store while chanting “WUBBALUBBADUBDUB”.
The holidays are upon us. The end of reason is nigh. The madness of the retail hellscape cometh, and very soon on a boxing day morning, Nietzsche's cry of “God is dead” will echo in our collective memories as reluctant, pained Best Buy employees everywhere are forced to clap in unison as the desperate, teeming, hate filled masses storm the bloody gates to try and get good deals on video games and video game accessories.
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