Aisle Three So

Midday light streamed through the doors, but it wasn't alone; in its company were parades of shoppers from all walks of life. Mostly the neighborhoods down the street, but you get the picture.

Adults and young adults and goths and dancers and techies and drifters and working ladies. All piled into the ubiquitous retail store like lemmings to a hanging cliff.

People roaming, people hurrying. Some of them weren't even people at all. In fact --

"HEY!"

Some, in fact, of them, but anyway, some, in fact... er...

...botch... flops...aisle three so. Er. What? Huh? Um?

So...

Huh? What? Um?

"Hey, there, narrator bungalow hogging billy bob! It's me, the jezebel-hole-excavating JESTER. And I just want to say...

"...time's up..! HAHAHAHA!

"Apologies monopolies! I just felt like you were getting on with a differing different air, so mucklified your vernacular a bit. no hard feelings; it was only business. Bungalow hogging billy bob business! HAHAHAH! Understand? You understand, don't you?

"Of course I do!

"So let's have a spree, shall we?!"