Black Friday has never been the smoothest shopping experience by any standard. There’s pushing and shoving and a lot of waiting in line which tends to stretch people’s patience, or lack thereof to the limit. Fights, arguments and conflict of personalities rule the day from the moment you set foot onto the store grounds and set up camp as much as a dozen hours before opening in an effort of pure madness to secure a good position in line. Then there’s the stores themselves, they don’t care. Hell, they actively promote the chaos in an effort to make an extra buck or two. They start by blitzing the radio and television airwaves promoting extremely low prices on otherwise expensive products and then fan the flames by only setting out a handful of these particular items. Security is often quite strong, but at midnight are they really awake?
Cat Riley certainly is not. Being neither nocturnal nor diurnal she is merely a creature who appreciates the peacefulness of slumber. So it came as no surprise to Christian Underwood that she would be against the idea of going to a Black Friday sale with him despite his promises of buying a hair dryer for her of the exact make and model to his own. Like everyone else she has her priorities and shopping is not on the list, especially when it involves spending the night lying in wait on a cold sidewalk and enduring a crisp autumn chill with hundreds of strangers, waiting for the opportunity to pounce on something she had no interest in. She would have to endure the incessant prattle of sleepless, yawning mothers with scores of unheeded children scampering about. People with ice chests loaded with drink but a surprising lack of food relieving themselves into empty milk cartons, various other containers and even on the ground while leaving them where they stood for all to see, and smell. Trash being discarded carelessly, left to float through the parking lot, carried by the swaying breeze on the starry night. Children defecating in their pants are ignored by their greedy parents who are far more interested in that 46 inch plasma television for 99 dollars than the children’s welfare and left to assault the nostrils of everyone unfortunate enough to find themselves downwind.
But Christian has always been a meticulous individual; long known for carefully planned out pranks with intricate details and other shenanigans and has taken this ability applying it to other facets of life, facets such as dealing with bumps in the road. It has long been said that it is nice to have a hobby to keep oneself occupied, but does sleeping up to ten hours a day truly qualify as a hobby? He wasn’t sure but his friend and houseguest has always seemed to enjoy a good snooze and aside from getting in trouble for numerous reasons that seemed to be her staple so he would plan around it as this would be her first black Friday; not only with him, but her first ever. As with any plan there are obstacles to be overcome, unforeseen circumstances and events which deviate from the presumed course and typically unseen by everyone but the most far sighted. He would have to think well ahead to develop contingencies which can account for the unforeseen roadblocks, detours and emergencies as he would find himself dealing with three disparate personalities; beginning with his partner of many years Scott Schreiner.
Like Christian Scott is a former wrestler known for his size and power, possessing a genetically gifted physique further enhanced by decades of weight training; he would act as the tank. His job being to clear the road during the mad rush once the doors open. Much like Cat, Scott is generally lazy, preferring to sit back and watch television when not training his ‘pump’. But having done this for many years now, despite his often vociferous protestations he has slowly grown into the role, even reveling in it on occasion. Still, he has long been a difficult man to rouse into action. Fortunately the promise of sex typically managed to hold the big man in check and keep him focused. Genie, the couple’s beloved Persian cat would act as his Special Forces operative. Her job would be to slither in between the throng of wildly pumping legs and wade through the sea of paddling feet behind enemy lines in search of the smaller trinkets he desired and hide them for later retrieval once Scott has cleared a path to the larger items which is a position her smaller, sleeker frame excelled at, her speed and agility making her impossible to catch during the ensuing chaos. But as with many pets she is sometimes prone to distraction. Should something glittery catch the feline’s eye she could easily forgo her mission in favor of that shiny new toy. Fortunately the high priced pet trainer he hired appears to have paid off as her distractions have been noticeably down in the ensuing incursions. Regardless he made sure to keep her favorite brand of catnip at the ready, Karrie Mae and Angie’s ‘Happy Holidays fantastic fun powder’ which made him feel confident, provided nobody brought along the one thing he has never been able to train her to ignore, a laser pointer. Having never seen a laser pointer utilized during the war of Black Friday however, his confidence remained intact and he took the extra precaution of packing one of his own to hopefully counteract the other should the need arise.
Cat Riley however, would be a different story. Unlike Scott and Genie Christian has not had the opportunity to properly initiate (read: train) her to become the newest addition to his shopping frenzy assault squad and he would have to give her a baptism by fire. Having never experienced the American brand of madness following thanksgiving she had no idea what to expect and would need to be exhaustively briefed, but how do you prepare somebody who is constantly asleep? How indeed as he found himself enveloped in the head scratching dilemma of adequately assigning an untrained recruit and preparing her to become a contributing member of his self-styled ‘Christian Underwood’s Super Shopping Initiative to Negate Gatherings’ also known as ‘CUSSING’. He decided to begin by listing Cat’s beneficial attributes noting that she tends to be ‘exceptionally well rested’ during the rare occasions when she is awake. She can be very cunning as he has witnessed during her numerous run-ins with Genie and Scott. Given her training and athleticism she could easily handle any competition in the all-important women’s section and when motivated (and awake) she has displayed a consistent and stubborn knack for obtaining what she wants. The problem of motivating a young woman who once slept through the explosion of a power transformer next to his home still proved to be an exercise in futility, despite his brain storming.
He remained at a loss while Cat slept for a seeming eternity following her recent victory over Seleana Zdunich at High Stakes. A well-deserved rest he reasoned and he allowed her to sleep unimpeded as he began his preparation in earnest, toiling away for hours on end in search of the ever elusive golden ticket until – consumed by frustration - he decided to take a break and relax his throbbing head by surfing the internet. But his determination would not abandon him as he found himself thinking back to Black Fridays past; his mind reviewing the details and taking note of mistakes and successes in a militaristic approach to efficiency. The military units of the world, particularly the United States have always be renowned for their efficiency and in a moment of curiosity as he allowed his wracked mind to wander he started looking up old Army projects from previous eras where he stumbled upon a Wikipedia article on subliminal stimuli. Stifling an oncoming yawn his eyes brighten and access the archives of childhood memories. He recalled learning something in school about how American advertisers used subliminal messaging during the 50s and 60s to entice consumers to buy their products. The method was simple, but ingenious. In the case of movies or television, where it was more widespread, advertisers simply slid a picture of their product, a single photo designed to appear as appetizing as possible – sometimes including a word such as ‘hungry’ or ‘thirsty’ - into the hundreds and thousands of frames containing the show itself. The individual frame would pass by unnoticed by the conscious eye, appearing as a momentary flicker and passing by too quickly to discern. The subconscious mind however would continue to work on the unknown sight and decipher the enigma while the conscious mind enjoyed the show. It would then trigger the appropriate stimulus, be it hunger or thirst and send the message to the active brain prompting the unwary consumer to take a trip to the concession stand. The Federal government eventually caught on and outlawed the practice following a public outcry, but only after it had become a proven winner. He leaned back clasping his hands behind his head with an ear splitting grin having finally found his answer and now only one question remained, how to employ it?
He returned to his assessment of Cat’s personality quirks and as he went over them in as much detail as his memory could provide jotted down notes onto a scratch pad. She enjoyed watching television from time to time, often falling asleep on the couch. Despite her relatively small size she seemed to subsist entirely on junk food, but blessed with a rocket ship metabolism it did not seem to affect her adversely in any way. He continued going over her penchants, trying to visualize ways to take advantage of them. Once she fell asleep on the couch he could insert a custom burned dvd into the player and run it as she rested. He could also spike her food with something to keep her awake and hopefully alert, but both of these ideas remained a crapshoot. He needed something more substantial, with better odds. Drawing a sigh he pushed himself away from the computer and glanced through bleary eyes towards the living room. Although Cat was in her room, as evidenced by her snoring reverberating through the hallway upstairs, she had left some of her belongings on the couch. Heaving another belated sigh he muttered and rose from the well-padded swivel chair,
“I’ve told that girl a thousand times to pick up after herself”.
He plodded towards the purple and gold appointed Victorian sofa reaching down to casually pull her chestnut knitted turtleneck sweater off of the curled and padded armrest. On the floor laid her blue Koss headphones attached to her iPhone by an auxiliary cord strewn alongside it, most likely slipping off of her head when he had Scott pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. Reaching down to grab the device he notes that an app is opened and he can hear her favored heavy metal music screeching through the ear piece. Pressing the touch screen with his index finger he turned turn it off and noted to be the Pandora music service while images suddenly flashed before his eyes forcing them to blink rapidly as his mind rushed to shuffle and itemize them. Scrolling back he recalled the youngster’s penchant for falling asleep with her headphones on. Many times in the past he had to take the headphones off of her head as she slumbered and charge the phone to prevent the battery from dying. Constantly he had to remind her not to fall asleep with her phone playing music for fear of the battery draining and – given her taste in music – the very real possibility of long term hearing damage; all to no avail. This time however, rather than being aggravated over her obstinacy he found himself chuckling softly over the blessing in disguise. Once she had fallen asleep he could easily swap out her music for a different option, one of his choosing. The answer had finally revealed itself and replacing her belongings back onto the couch and floor he looked up towards the source of the human chainsaw tearing through unseen logs upstairs with a gleam in his eyes,
“Thank you kitty cat”, he whispered.
Hurriedly he snatched his keys settled on the breakfast bar. They jingled while he shuffled through them for the car key, but not loud enough to be concerned with waking his houseguest. He routinely doubted if anything could wake her which lead to another dilemma to address; how to wake her and keep her alert? His sneakers squeaked against the wooden floor as he strode across the living room towards the foyer, reaching to grab a brown leather jacket with tassels from the bronze coat stand inside of the door. If anything, he mused while turning on the porch light, he could load her up with the panacea for laziness; caffeine. The door shut behind him with a thud followed by the metallic click of the deadbolt and then the roar of a car engine as it is started and trailed by squealing tires as it sped off into the distance piloted by a man on a mission.
Hypnopedia, perhaps better known under the colloquialism of sleep learning is the process of feeding instructions to a sleeping individual by means of recorded messages. Although Christian had a basic grasp of the concept he lacked the training necessary to successfully implement it, much like the means advertised after midnight on local television so he decided to seek the advice of a professional; his own psychiatrist of many years Dr. Gwendolyn Stark who; after warning off of advertised sleep learning methods, brushing them off as ‘so much garbage’ advised him that the best way to implement such teachings would be through the use of differential partial reinforcement trace conditioning, referred to as DPRTC which is using sounds like words and odors that elicited a pleasant response from the subject. In short he would have to use words that Cat could relate to in a positive manner. But she suggested that he could string his words along and tie them into the key words designed to elicit a response. In other words he would anchor his ‘instructions’ to her with her favorite dish German chocolate pie and to accentuate the effect he would bake one and leave it out to cool as she slept to take in the aroma. She would wake with the smell fresh in her mind but the actual pie having been long since disposed of and thereby leaving her with only the memory and hopefully his instructions.
One week has passed and following the traditional Thanksgiving meal and Scott’s requisite football games Christian hurriedly cleans the table and stows the leftovers in the fridge while shouting instructions to Scott who stands by with a sleeping Cat Riley having over indulged in turkey, stuffing and nearly an entire pot of gravy draped over one shoulder and Genie resting atop the other. A mild veil of annoyance creases his leathery façade as he listens to his partner ramble on about the importance of the events about to unfold. The same thing happens every year following thanksgiving dinner; a mad dash to the store where they would compete with other overzealous shoppers. Having heard it all before he nods his head absently with Christian droning on incessantly. Having finished in the kitchen, breaking his nearly one year old record in the process the co-owner of SCW begins to pack the accoutrements deemed necessary for the night ahead including extra beer for Scott, Cat nip and a laser pointer for Genie, and two six packs of energy drinks along with a bottle of no-doze and smelling salts for Cat in addition to a set of wireless ear pieces with voice activated microphones for everyone. With everything gathered and accounted for he anxiously snatches the black key fob from the hallway lamp stand bearing a gold bow tie emblem and darts for the door still barking orders,
“Let’s go! We have to get a move on”!
“Chrissy,” Scott sighs belatedly, “It’s barely after five and the store doesn’t open until midnight”.
“We have to secure an advantageous positioning if we are to be successful in this operation”, he spits, slipping into pseudo commandant verbiage. “Did you put the sleeping back in the back seat for Cat”?
Scott sighs, “Yeah, but I don’t see why she needs it”.
“Because we need her as well rested as possible”, he retorts. “Otherwise she’s more useless than you are during the Super Bowl, so you’re going to stuff her inside the bag once we get in line and let her sleep until it’s almost time for the doors to open now let’s go”!
“We don’t have any bombs”, the goateed behemoth observes flatly. “How are you going to wake her up”?
“Get your big ass in the car!” Christian barks. “Let me worry about Cat, I have contingencies in place. Now set her down and get in, we have to move”.
Scott carefully lays Cat down in the back seat, her semi-lifeless body slumping over as the engine is brought to life with an angry growl. A quick rev of the thirsty small block serves as a not so subtle reminder that the driver means business and Scott obliges by dropping his heft into the passenger seat with a groan and slams the door shut with a heavy thud. No sooner than he can reach for the seat belt the car is in motion; make that airborne as the throttle is hammered by Christian’s notoriously heavy foot sending the shrieking Chevy into a fishtailing, tire squealing, smoke spewing launch.
Knowing better than to question his partner’s driving during a Black Friday Scott tries to occupy his mind with something, anything but the rapidly ruminating road. Fumbling with the touch screen lcd infotainment system he scrolls through a variety of music stations eventually settling on 93.5, a local station known for its selection of female empowerment songs. A curious choice to be sure given his traditionally surly demeanor but nobody has ever questioned him on his fondness of Kelly Clarkson. Leaning back into his seat he closes his eyes, praying for a suitable distraction from the crying pedestrians, blaring horns and screeching brakes surrounding them. A radio announcer with a crisp, clear voice bellows excitedly into the custom surround sound speaker system, the sudden high pitch jarring Scott’s eyes wide open before diving into a practiced spiel,
“This weekend at Harvey’s Outdoor arena KISS has joined together with KVVU Fox 5 to bring you live SCW wrestling action! We have a jam packed card featuring all of your favorite superstars and bombshells including the human freight train Casey Williams, the Argentine assassin Mercedes Vargas, and more. The Honor Legacy championship will be up for grabs as Rory Rockefeller gets set to defend against Blasted Monk. The SCW champion Fenris teams up with Ty West to take on Senior Vinnie and Jake Raab and in a huge grudge match we have the bombshells going at it as ‘Cardiac’ Cat Riley finally gets her hands on Kate Steele in one of the most highly anticipated matches since High Stakes! The box office opens at 5 pm Monday evening and tickets will be sold throughout the week, but if you want the best seat you have to get here early!”
“Does Cat know you got her the Kate Steele match?” Scott asks, diverting his attention from the announcement and onto the driver as he wildly swerves in and out of lanes zig zagging through the much slower moving traffic. “She’s been chomping at the bits for this”.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know yet. I just booked it a couple days ago and I’m saving the announcement to her to use as a bit of motivation in the store tonight”.
“Damn, you scheme more than any woman I’ve ever known”.
“Yeah but it’s for a good cause.., cause black Friday only comes around once a year”.
“Thank God for small favors”.
Minutes later Scott is also thankful for arriving to the Walmart super center just off of Tropicana Boulevard east of the strip in the south side of town. Skidding the car into a parking spot and scaring a trio of elderly pedestrians Christian quickly exits the vehicle to claim a spot in the line forming along the concrete sidewalk lining the front of the massive building while Scott exits in a more leisurely manner; taking care to grab Cat from the backseat, still fast asleep along with Genie, a sleeping bag and a small black vinyl satchel containing an assortment of ‘munitions’ assembled by the boss for a day. Locking the car and activating the alarm system he strolls to join Christian in line. Looking ahead he notes only a small handful of people in front of them, no more than ten to fifteen which prompts him to check his plastic, black and yellow Pokemon flashing lcd watch. His brows arc upon noticing the time of 5:14 pm.
“Damn!” he exclaims in disbelief. “We left the house at five sharp and we live 10 miles from here”!
“Please.., this is important”, Christian snorts with an accompanying eye roll. “Now hand me the sleeping bag so I can hold it while you stuff Cat inside”.
The big man sighs, bouncing his boulder like pectorals for a pair of skinny teenaged boys gawking wide eyed at him and hands the bag over while shifting Cat’s body from his shoulder into his arms, arms which he is mindful enough to flex for the star struck youngsters. “I always thought she was a girl”, he mutters and starts to carefully slide Cat into the graphically emboldened nylon bag feet first. “It turns out she’s a potato”.
With Cat securely inside Christian leaves the mouth of the bag open and gently sets her down on the sidewalk to continue her nap. Genie, awoken by the activity notices the promising warmth of the bag and joins her inside, curling up against the warmth of her body While the boss pulls a small spiral notepad from the inside pocket of his brown leather bomber style jacket and quietly begins to peruse his itinerary for the evening leaving Scott to his own thoughts, and the babbling of a trio of young women whom he estimates to be in their late 20s to early 30s gossiping about a pregnant co-worker and grunts in disdain.
“I can’t believe she’s going to name that poor girl Genesis”, a slender Asian woman gasps smarmily. “What kind of a name is that? This isn’t Star trek”!
“Ugh tell me about it”, a second woman a brunette sporting long, straight hair and a muscular build chimes in with mock indignation. “And have you seen how she walks in and out of the service bar? It’s like she walks in, then realizes that she forgot her head outside, goes back to get it and then realizes that she had it all along”!
“How about how she walks with her hand on her stomach all the time?” The third member of the hen house, a tall blonde laughs with a rolling snicker. “You’d think she’s never had a baby before”!
“And the way she walks now, like she’s carrying a bowling ball!” The slender Asian ads with a cackle.
Shaking his head Scott turns away from the trio desperately in search of a distraction. If only Cat were awake right now he muses to himself, recalling her intense dislike of malicious gossip and smiling at the image of her tearing into the group with reckless abandon and taps his partner on the shoulder,
“Hey Chrissy, is there any chance we can wake Cat up early?”
“Not a chance in hell, I want her as well rested as she can be for tonight’s mission. Now forget about Cat and hand me the satchel, I need to inventory it”.
Handing the bag over he plugs his ears while wishing he had brought along a pair of headphones to drown out the clucking going on behind them. The chatter is enough to drive any sane man to madness despite their relative attractiveness, which really is a moot point to a gay man. Listening further he notes that the group all works together at a Strip casino as cocktail servers and apparently they are none too appreciative of their employment as they proceed to bash non tipping customers as well as tipping customers for not tipping enough in addition to picking out tiny flaws in their character or appearance for something more to poke fun at. Yes, he sighs, Cat would have a wonderful time with this group. He allows his size 14 foot clad in steel toed work boots to ‘inadvertently’ tap Cat in the side. It is a gentle kick as he does not want to hurt her but still enough to move her in hopes of waking her. Unfortunately, she remains motionless; not even giving him the satisfaction of a grunt and the rendering the attempt completely futile.
“Hunh”, he muses softly, “she didn’t even flinch”.
“What?” Christians asks, peeking over the notepad and eyeing him curiously.
“Nothing”, he replies hastily, fearful of him growing angry for his disobeying instructions. “I was just uhh.., watching something in the back of the line”.
Time flies when you’re having fun, but what about when you are shrouded in misery with nothing to occupy you other than the incessant clucking of bored hens squawking about nothing in particular? The opposite it seems as a glance at his watch shows a mere two minutes have passed and seems to be getting slower with each word uttered. Scott groans in agitation, forced to listen to the senseless gossip of the three women who prattle on about the same thing; his appearance is decidedly below par, her perfume is too strong, those children need supervision and with no end in sight his beefy shoulders slump in reluctant acceptance to his fate.
“Hey, look at that guy in front of us; he thinks he’s so big”.
“Yeah, he probably can’t even get it up any more for all of the steroids he’s taking”.
“I’ll bet that’s his girlfriend asleep in the bag in front of him”.
“Ha ha, it’s probably the story of her life living with him”.
“Do you think he can find it”?
Feeling his face reddening in outrage Scott desperately tries to divert his attention from the tattling trio, forcing his mind into other avenues. Christian had given him explicit instructions beforehand, telling him that under no circumstances is he to make a scene of any kind until the store opens for fear of being barred from entering by security. Despite the fact the low rent security officer, a dangerously thin pimple faced young man no more than 25 years old has not left the electric golf cart stationed at the end of the walkway, ostensibly to keep an eye on the gathering crowd. His stained yellow shirt rumpled and sporting light brown stains, possibly accrued over time to a lack of washing appears to be two size too big for his frame which Scott estimate at no more than 150 pounds. Lighting a cigarette the youngster stifles a yawn and turns his bleary gaze towards the slowly filling parking lot, the only thing on his mine being the end of his shift. But his efforts are in vain as each avenue leads him right back to where he started,
“I’ll bet she has a crater face and that’s why she’s staying in the bag”.
“Yeah, she has to be ashamed”.
He bites his tongue to thwart the overbearing impulse to speak out while forcing his mind down another road. Without the benefit of his cell phone and head set as a distraction he sinks deeper into a web of crossing paths leading from one impulse to another in a desperate quest for mental diversion. Further down the line an older man, whom he guesses to be an 80s child going by his long, thinning and greying hair, wiry frame and Iron Maiden tee shirt fumbles around on his own cell phone shuffling through music, playing a few notes before moving on to the next tunes before finally settling for a flash in the pan band called Men at Work, an Australian group he remembers vividly performing one of their hit songs ‘Be good Johnny’. Exhaling gratefully he focuses on the song, reciting the lyrics in his head, only with a twist to reflect his own situation at the moment.
Stand in place, waiting in line
Where everything’s gonna be just fine
Don't you be a bad boy Scotty
Don't you slip up
Or play the fool
Not a chance Chrissy,
I’m on my best behavior
I’m gonna follow your every rule
Get told by my partner
Not to yell and scream
Told by him twice again:
Be good Be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good be good (Scotty)
Be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good (Scotty)
Be good be good.
Are you going to kill those hens Scott?
No!
Oh, well you must be just maiming them,
Are you Scotty?
No! no! no!
Boy, you sure are a funny guy, Scotty, but I like you! So tell me,
What are you trying to do, Scott?
I’m just trying to day dream
All night long
With nobody else in the scene
Be good be good
Be good be good be good
Be good be good be good be good (Scotty)
Be good be good.
Blessed by the screeching phone of the otherwise obnoxious head banger he is treated to a variety of songs from his youth, some of which he enjoyed and others he did not particularly care for, until now. At this point it is no longer a matter as the music serves as the distraction he had been seeking all along, a way to pass the time and to draw his mind away from the ill meaning chattering going on behind him. Still, if only Cat would wake up. Christian had put him on a leash tonight but Cat, to his knowledge, is free and clear to do what she wants, or is she? Given her choice she would undoubtedly have stayed home he is certain, but Christian had insisted on bringing her, saying that it is important that she be present which indicated a plan for her. Regardless, Cat has never been one to follow a plan, or even obey the rules. A free spirit she simply does whatever she feels which typically is sleeping. A quick glance to the Grumpy Cat sleeping bag on the ground, an ironic choice to be sure, reveals a tuft of blonde hair seeping through the mouth accompanied by the soft vibrating repercussions of snoring.
“Scott, hand me the smelling salts”.
“Hunh, what?” Scott blinks rapidly emerging from his reverie. “What’s going on”?
“”I need the smelling salts”, Christian reiterates. “It’s almost time.”
“No shit”? He muses behind a thinly veiled smirk of delight and fishes in the pockets of his tightly fitting blue jeans for a small Altoids container repurposed to carry the aforementioned smelling salts which he hands over. “Thank God, I’m ready to get this over with”.
“Oh and hand me the envelope”.
Reaching to the inside pocket of his blue and yellow Michigan Wolverines varsity jacket Scotty pulls out a well-padded white envelope and passes it along. Accepting the offering Christian kneels down beside the sleeping bag and carefully unzips it. He folds the open layer over revealing Cat’s face and Genie curled into a ball nestled against her. The sight brings a smile to his face as he reaches over to gently wake the Persian, which mews softly in protest over being woken up before lifting her carefully and handing the 12 pound bundle of fur to Scott who cradles the pet protectively. He looks on at his partner kneeling over Cat as he takes the small cylindrical tube in hand, placing it beneath her nose. The hens behind them in line look on curiously mumbling among themselves, but he pays them no mind looking forward to Cat’s arrival as it were; if not to deal with the squawk box then at least to have somebody to talk to. Normally Christian is always up for gab but not at this time of the year as he is consumed by the single minded focus of ‘winning’ the budding shopping war.
Smelling salts, also known as ammonia inhalants are chemical compounds consisting of ammonium carbonate, crystalline solid and lavender oil or some other perfume to act in conjunction with the ammonia and are traditionally administered by medical personnel or law enforcement officers to people feeling ‘faint’ or having already fainted. It is also used in many sports such as hockey, power lifting or football as a stimulant. Scott himself has used them in the past during long hours in the gym. Christian pinches the container between his hands and snaps it at the middle breaking it open.
The release of the ammonia triggers an inhalation reflex in Cat by irritating her nostrils and lungs but rather than ‘pop to’ as most recipients tend to do, Cat merely groans and rolls over onto her side while muttering groggily,
“I’m busy, leave me alone”.
Scott draws his breath in amazement having never before seen the salts fail but Christian merely laughs reaching into the tin container for a second. Before administering it he digs into the satchel to retrieve a black and orange labeled can of full throttle energy drink along with a red and white packet of caffeine powder. Handing them to Scott he adds,
“Mix that powder with the energy drink, and have it ready for Cat”.
He follows the instructions quietly while watching from the corner of his eye as Christian cracks open the second vial. The sudden rush of the strong ammonia triggers a second inhalation reflex prompting the young bombshell to break into a coughing fit. Rising into a seated and upright position she continues to cough uncontrollably as Christian snatches the energy drink from Scott’s twin hams thrusting it under her nose.
“Here”, he says, pushing it onto her. “Drink this”.
She accepts the offering, taking it into her hands and starts to drink; slowly at first but her irritated throat demands more and she responds by tilting her head back and chugging the liquid. Finishing the drink she crumples the aluminum can, yawns heartily and lays back down propping her head atop a folded arm and pulling the sleeping bag over her torso. Christian and Scott exchange wide eyed expressions of shock as she slips back into a snoring slumber.
“Jesus Christ”, Christian mutters. “That’s 1500 milligrams of caffeine”!
He turns to Scott, shaking his head in disbelief. “I – I.., don’t know what to do, I’m at a loss”. Genie yawns in an echo of Cat’s sentiment and makes herself comfortable in the big bruiser’s bulging arms. Slapping his hands against his thighs Christian’s mind accelerates into overdrive in search of a solution to the unexpected dilemma. “There has to be a way to wake this kid up”. He and Scott begin bouncing ideas off of one another as activity inside of the store by the doors starts to pick up with blue and yellow vested employees shuffling about making last minute preparations. The crowd behind them, as well as the gaggle of people in front is quick to take notice and begin their own pre-shopping rituals. This is not lost on Christian and Scott who break from their meeting of the minds with Christian shrugging in capitulation, “It looks like we may have to go it alone”.
“Go what alone”? A husky feminine voice behind them asks which startles the duo as they spin on their heels to see Cat staring at them bemusedly through twitching eyes with the overdose of caffeine having finally taken effect. “Did you make other plans? I’ll be happy to go back to bed if you want”.
“Cat, Thank God!” Christian cries in surprise and clutches the young woman by the shoulders. “Don’t go back to bed, please! We’re going to need your help in there, just like we planned”.
“Ok, fine”, she huffs in agreement. “I’ll help but.., for some odd reason I have this overpowering urge to go climb something extremely tall”.
“You’ll get your chance”, he laughs and gestures the group together. “Now huddle up, this is the plan..,”
Handing all three members, yes, the Persian also gets one, an ear piece Christian instructs them on its use while informing them of the built in microphone advising them to simply tap the ear piece to talk. He clutches the hefty white envelope tightly into his hands while advising each member of their specific tasks and departments and keeping observation on the activity taking place by the sliding glass doors. Reaching into the satchel he pulls out three small, but bulging bags and hands one to each of the triumvirate.
“Inside these bags are the tools we need to deal with the chaos we’re about to confront. I’ll go over them with you but we have to be quick about it, the doors are about to open”. Hastily he briefs them on the items in the bags, black vermouth bags with nylon strands and a side clip to affix to their belts. “Now Scotty, your section is the women’s department..,” before Scott can open his mouth to protest Christian hurriedly blurts his reasoning, “Women can be animals during a sale”, he explains. “There will be a stampede and you’re my tank. Cat, you have the toy department. Those little rug rats will be all over the place and you are my missile; fast and lethal. Genie, you are my special forces so you start in the jewelry section and then move to assist Cat and Scotty. You are to get in and out, hit and run, use your speed and elusiveness.”
“What are you going to be doing?” Cat asks, casting a glance over her shoulder to the doors and the employees getting ready to open the flood gates.
“I’ll be acting as a mobile command post and running interference while picking up other items”.
The throng murmurs in a palpable excitement noting the arrival of the ‘key master’, another under paid security guard sporting an unkempt uniform similar to his companion snoozing in the golf cart outside. With the keys jangling from his beefy hands the older, heavyset man ambles to the entrance raising the set above his head and fumbling for the right key to insert into the door lock in the top left corner. Cat feels her body trembling with anticipation, either from the madness about to commence or from the huge dose of caffeine as Christian gently nudges Scott into position as the big man sets Genie down on the ground. Christian himself reaches into the overstuffed envelope and pulls out a bloated wad of counterfeit bills. Although they appear legitimate at first glance, closer inspection reveals the scowling face of President Donald trump. With a click the doors open and Christian throws the fake currency into the air before breaking into a full sprint.
“Oh my God, some rich guy threw up a ton of money!”
The crowd scrambles madly to collect as many bills as their greedy little digits can snag giving Christian, Cat, Scott and Genie a sizeable head start into the store. Each of them grabs a shopping cart and they then fan out heading towards their pre assigned destinations, all except one. Cat notices the greenbacks fluttering in the air and does an about face, distracted by the temptation.
“Oh my God, money”!
“No, Cat, no!”
She is quickly reined in by her attentive General who alertly grasps the collar of her black tee shirt and holding her in place to keep her from joining the frenzy.
“Its fake money Cat”, he tells her hastily. “I made it just for this now get to your section we only have a few moments before the jig is up”.
Genie darts on between the legs of a group of cashiers as well as an additional pair of rent a cops who try to give chase but prove no match for the agile feline who easily evades them by ducking under counters and zig zagging between tightly packed display cases; just another obstacle for Christian’s special forces unit to overcome, an obstacle she has had plenty of practice with against someone far younger and more athletic than they. Scott meanwhile thunders down the temporarily vacant aisle towards the women’s department and hastily retrieves a crumpled note from his hip pocket containing the list of items to be procured. Cat zips down the opposing aisle towards the toy department, pulling a similar list from her own hip pocket and reading as she goes..,
“Karrie Mae and Angie’s Presto Zingo zappo Magic set, Karrie Mae and Angie’s Super Happy Fantastic Funhouse, Karrie Mae and Angie’s Purrect Portrait Pussy cat paint set, Karrie Mae and Angie’s Tender tushy potty paper, Karrie Mae and Angie’s Pleasantly plump puddy tat porridge pot, Karrie Mae and Angie’s..,” She pauses after tucking the latest item under her arm, “Bloody hell, what is this man’s obsession with these two twits”? A voice crackles over her earpiece diverting her attention momentarily.
“Stampede incoming to the women’s department, Scott be ready. We also have a BOLO for the toy department, Cat this means you”. Christian says using the military acronym for ‘Be On Look Out’. “Triple bogeys incoming toys, weapons free”.
Peeking out from behind one of the display cases Cat notes three young children dragging their parents in her direction. She utilizes her training by reaching into the bag provided her and pulling out several neon glow in the dark balls which pulse in different colors and rolls them along the floor towards the children. The plans works as intended with the kids stopping to check out and chase down the ‘neato’ glowing balls allowing Cat to snatch another item before heading to the next aisle.
A loud crash reverberates throughout the spacious warehouse originating from the women’s department where Scott has overturned a large display stand in the path of stampeding cattle prompting the obese women to clumsily trip and crash and eventually fall over each other in a mad scramble to beat the other to her feet and reach the target area.
Glass shatters from the vicinity of the jewelry department with the beleaguered pair of security officers still giving chase to an ever elusive quarry, Genie, who darts under a portable glass display case and causes them to crash into it and freeing her up to snatch a pair of Grumpy Cat earrings.
The commotion outside at the entrance has given way to outrage as the money grubbing holiday shoppers realize that they have been duped. Several of them proceed to argue and question the identity of the culprit with another man, a wiry young man sporting dark rimmed glasses gesticulates towards Christian, already inside the store and with a full shopping cart. The group angrily clenches their fists and begins shouting obscenities while beating a path into the store towards the object of their ire. In their blind fury however, the group fails to notice the added sheen on the white marble tiled floor, nor do they take note of a can of Teflon spray in his hand. With a smirk he ducks in behind a row of shelving with the mob charging in with reckless abandon and summarily slipping on the freshly coated floor. One by outraged one they slip, fall and crash onto the floor. The extra slick coating afforded by the Teflon spray makes getting back to their feet an onerous challenge which gives Christian additional breathing space.
Having gotten most of the list Cat memorizes the remaining items and crumples the list tossing it aside. She passes by the three children still chasing after the neon balls, but inadvertently kicking them further along forcing their parents to give chase and leaving their shopping cart unprotected. She digs into the items in the cart, tossing them aside and unloads her arms into it, nearly stuffing it with her own items and skates off to her next destination which she comes across in short order. Another metal display shelf in front of her showcases a collection of SCW action figures with SCW champion Fenris featured prominently front and center. Her blue eyes scan the items in search of the desired Despayre figure, which Christian had explained to her that he needs to pay off a bet. Grabbing the four sided case she spins it around seeing dozens of additional figures encased in plastic and splattered with the yellow and black SCW markings. Closer inspection reveals the figures, all of them to be of the same bombshell, Kate Steele..,
“Bloody hell”! She laments. “Where are my figures?” She cranes her neck looking beyond the case to the static shelving behind it sporting more figures including Casey Williams, Dani Weston and Crystal Hilton among others, but her own doll escapes her. Spinning the carousel around back to the more than a dozen Kate Steele action figures she begins pulling them off of their hooks and allows them to drop to her feet on the floor. “This tosh will not stand”, she mutters digging through her bag in search of a lighter to compliment the can of lighter fluid she had taken from the sporting goods department which she locates in relatively short order, pausing upon realizing that she had left her cart, fully loaded back there behind a tent. “Shite”, she curses, slapping her forehead. “I’ll have to go back for it after I burn this rubbish”.
In the women’s department Scott has managed to avoid the stampede and safely collect the items on his list at which point Christian directs him to help Cat in the toy department. Breaking into a trot he pushes the loaded for bear shopping cart down the aisle past a scattering of odds and ends discarded by shoppers anxiously digging through the debris of the former kids clothing section searching for the ever elusive needle, namely the specially marked Black Friday items. From the corner of his eye he spies Genie zipping through another aisle parallel to his own with a stash of shiny jewelry hanging from her mouth and beleaguered security guards huffing and puffing after her in vain. Taking a sharp left he deposits the cart in a pre-designated area for Christian to pick up within the sporting goods department inside of an unmarked display tent which he closes shut to hide the bounty inside before resuming his course.
Christian, having eluded the pitchfork mob still upset over the Donald Trump fake money pushes his own fully laden cart down the aisle towards the sporting goods section pausing every few paces to spray the floor with the Teflon spray that had worked wonders for him thus far. He passes by a setup of stuffed animals featuring Pikachu, Barney the purple dinosaur, various Sesame Street characters and more. His eyes gloss over them quickly, not interested until he spies something new; packed inside of an open faced pink box and bearing Karrie Mae and Angie Polsen’s annoyingly happy grins is a doll that resembles his own friend and House guest that causes him to emergency brake, his sneakers, pulled momentarily by the heft of his own treasure squeak loudly against the floor leaving rubber marks.
“Karrie Mae and Angie’s cute and bouncy Cat Riley cuddle buddy”. He shakes his head in dismay muttering, “Damn it!” and proceeds to grab two armloads of the plush dolls ‘with free cat nip!’ and loads them into his overly stuffed cart as Genie joins him. Leaping into the toddler carrier of the cart she drops the jewelry into his hands before scurrying off into parts unknown. Moments later the two security guards, their yellow shirts now drenched in sweat approach him, their lungs burning as they stop to gasp for air.
“Hey man.., did you.., did.., see a cat run by”? The first man asks, an older African American man who has to be pushing Sixty dry heaves, clutching his jack hammering chest.
“A cat?” he pretends to have no clue what they are talking about hoping to grant Genie additional time and glares at the men quizzically. “I don’t understand”.
“A cat” his partner, a slender younger man sporting a road map of acne and smelling of cheap cologne chimes in. “A big white cat, really fat and..,”
“Excuse me, fat?” He takes umbrage over the insinuation of his ‘baby’ being referred to in a derogatory manner planting his hands on his hips but quickly catches himself, “Umm, no. I didn’t see any well fed cats around here, maybe it went to the food department”? He suggests attempting to steer them in the opposite direction.
“But that’s way over on the other side of the store and we saw it here just a minute ago”, the old man replies, still trying to catch his fleeting breath. But Christian merely shrugs and adds,
“Well, cats are very fast”.
The ploy works and the two over worked guards break into another agonizing run heading towards the grocery department. He smiles in satisfaction and taps his ear piece to speak,
“Well done Genie”. He barks resuming his trek. “Now head over to the toy section to help Cat so we can get out of here”.
The trio of clucking hens strolls lazily around the corner towards the toy department as Cat tips the can of lighter fluid and begins pouring it over the pile of Kate Steele dolls. Recognizing what is about to happen one of them storms forward, grasping Cat around the arm and spinning her about. Face to face the women exchange angry glares in a stare down over the fate of Kate Steele and her plastic championship belt included free with the package. The other two quickly fall in behind the lithe blonde woman who stands an inch or two taller than Cat glowering over her and finally breaks the palpable tension with cutting words,
“Do you realize what you’re about to do?” she demands launching her hands up from her hip hugging Levis. “Kate Steele is my daughter’s favorite wrestler and I told her I would buy her an action figure for Christmas! Now move aside so I can get one”. She reaches for one of the dolls from the heap but is thwarted by Cat repositioning herself directly in front to block access and draw a venomous reply, “Get your ass out of my way”!
“Nobody’s buying these bloody dolls,” Cat sneers, her lips curling into a snarl. “Kate Steele is a bloody plonker who I intend to plant and I am starting with these. I’m going to burn every one of them before putting the fire to her worthless career, and if you don’t get out of my face you will be joining her atop the funeral pyre”.
Shoving the other woman aside Cat begins dousing the pile with the lighter fluid but before she can activate the lighter the woman grabs her by the hair and violently yanks it, pulling her away. As she reaches for one of the dolls Cat snaps back to her feet, a malicious gleam in her eyes as she dives into the other woman and knocks her down. The pair rolls for a moment before the seasoned and well trained catch wrestler ensnares her into a bicep slicer, compressing the bicep into the humerus and applying pressure. The woman howls in pain as he companions, their eyes wide in disbelief, quickly jump in with the muscular brunette grabbing Cat by the hair and the slender Asian woman taking hold of her feet and try to pull her off of their friend. Rounding the corner Scott notes Cat on the ground grappling with the three women. He rushes in grabbing the brunette by the waist and hoisting her up. A fraction of a second behind the burly bruiser Genie slithers into the picture and reacts with a loud hiss, jumping onto and clawing violently at the face of the Asian woman who, taken by surprise stumbles back and trips over falling to the floor.
“Ah mission accomplished”, Beaming proudly Christian pushes the three stuffed shopping carts out of the store and into the parking lot towards his waiting car. He felt fortunate in finding Cat’s unattended cart near the sporting good section and the tent where Scott had stashed his and, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth he promptly took possession of it and proceeded to the checkout stand, and from the looks of things, it is none too soon. Popping the trunk he begins to unload the contents as the high pitched wailing of sirens invade the lot, belonging to a quartet of black and white Crown Victoria Metro police cars. “Oh shit, they’re probably looking for me”, hastily he throws the rest of the items inside the trunk and after ensuring the carts are empty he ducks into the car behind the driver seat, shrinking down behind the steering wheel to avoid detection. He watches as the police officers jump from the red and blue flashing vehicles and into the store. Sensing the opportunity he cranks the engine and puts the transmission into gear peeling out of the lot away from the cop cars and into the relative safety of the streets. “Sorry gang, I’ll have to come back for you after the heat dies down”.
The police officers arrive on the scene in short order and after spending a few moments breaking up the fracas proceed to handcuff Cat, Scott, the three hens and even Genie with a tiny pair of specialized cuffs as an employee takes a fire extinguisher to the smoldering plastic remains of Kate Steele. The blonde, holding her arm and crying wails on about wanting to press charges against Cat for assault and battery while the Asian member of the triad has her facial wounds tended by a newly arrived medic. The brunette stares in silent accusation at Scott who bounces his pectorals behind the tightly fitted blue tee shirt, having discarded his jacket in favor of freedom of movement. Catching the scent of a developing story, most likely thanks to their use of police scanners a television reporter followed by a cameraman arrives on the scene. The reporter, a lanky redhead plastered in an obnoxious fuchsia pant suit thrusts her microphone into Cat’s face asking for comment which she complies with a smile,
“Kate Steele, this is just a warm up, you’re next”.
With a groan, Gene Banton senior depresses the red button on the remote control held securely in his protective grasp shutting off the television. He rolls over in the bed towards the nightstand on his left, careful not to wake his wife Morrigan, sound asleep beside him. Fumbling about with his fingers he locates the bronze base of the lamp and flips a switch turning it on and reaches for the cordless phone. Rapidly punching in a series of numbers he presses the device to his ear while it rings up his target.
“Junior, your client, your uncle pump and cousin Genie are in the county jail”, he drawls in a raspy agitation. “Get your sister and go bail them out”.
