The Quest for Cheese (Comedy Blog)

“The Vaudevillian Mis-Adventures of WoahLock™”© is a series of short , comedic stories written by me. None of the events in the stories are real, none of the people in the stories are real, none of the scenarios involving carnage or maiming are real. These are merely a new way for me to convey my moods without coming out and saying “I feel  _____” every single time.
This means the stories flow, tone, structure, and so forth may change dramatically which each story.
Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives to read my little stories. I am not a professional writer, so please excuse spelling and/or grammatical errors. And remember, these are just for fun and to express myself in a constructive way.
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The Vaudevillian Mis-Adventures of WoahLock™ Series
“The Quest for Cheese”

I don’t recall how the day began, or the events leading up to “The Craving” but I knew once it hit me that I had to have… a grilled cheese sandwich. I walked into the kitchen with purpose, I knew my reason for existing this day. I thrust open the refrigerator door with gusto, only to have my heart shatter where I stood. We were out of cheese. Visions of a dark, desolate world stretched for miles within my mind. This was it. No hope. The ultimate scorched earth scenario. I stared at the floor filled with absolute despair, until an ember of hope flickered inside of me. What was it that I remembered hearing on television? Yes! The ember roared into an all-consuming blaze. The grocery store down the road had cheese on sale! This day could yet be salvaged.

In a daze of grilled cheese visions, I found myself at the nearest grocery store. No memory of how I had arrived there, so intent on my purpose. For all I remember I could have teleported, or been carried there on the wings of cheese fairies. So complete were my cheese filled daydreams. I grasped the bar of the nearest shopping cart, white knuckles exposed to the crisp cool air. While I am here, I might as well pick up a few other things, but first the cheese.

I start down the closest aisle, and begin to head in the direction of my sweet salvation when I notice the white-haired elderly woman walking towards me. Her eyes are steely, her paper thin lips are pulled tight and she is heading in the direction of the cheese with a fist-full of coupons and a devious glint in her eyes.

I lock eyes with the white-haired woman, suddenly we both know what the other is about and the situation has gone from tense to dangerous. Almost in sync we both lock our elbows and begin to drag race down the main aisle. Cart by cart, we tear off towards the cheese. On lookers gasp at the ferocity of our speed. Small children are yanked out of our way moments before being plowed over, a stock boy is clipped by the corner of a cart and is thrown into a display of soup cans, which inexplicably explodes.

Children weep, women shout, a burly man faints. The race has taken a heavy toll on the by-standers. Neck and neck the white-haired woman and I continue to peel towards the cheese, both of us blinded by rage and adrenaline. I will not be defeated. I will have my grilled cheese. This tiny woman of 87 years will not thwart, “The Craving”!

I’m so focused on the white-haired woman next to me, that I do not see the spilled applesauce on the floor. My cart hits the sickly glob of apple goo and I begin to fishtail. I skid out into a rapid spin, unable to control the cart any longer I am sent flying into a display of adult diapers with a loud, and heart wrenching thud.

Internally, and probably externally too, I scream with every inch of my soul, “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The white-haired woman has beaten me. She has made it to the cheese, and she clears out the shelves. I weep silently when suddenly I stop, wipe my nose and sit up. I straighten out my clothes and whisper to myself, “You know, pizza rolls sound pretty good.” As I finish the sentence, I look up to see a young man eyeing me intently while grasping the bar on his cart so that his white knuckles are clearly visible. “Ah”, I think to myself. “So we begin.”

Concept and Story Created by Autumn “WoahLock™” J.H. © 2017
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