Secure Groceries

I woke up this morning with a hunger. An appetite for justice and Cheerios. However, it had been weeks since I last procured provisions and I had exhausted my final bowl of Cheerios yesterday. Justice would have to wait. One cannot battle criminals on a vacant stomach, not even Robocop.

Luckily for me, the local Wal-Mart was only a short distance away. I haven't bought a car since coming out of retirement, so I had to walk.

"Hi, how are you?" said the greeter as I entered.

"I am fine, citizen," I replied. There was no time for idle chit chat. Usually I am a friendly roboguy, but I was on a mission and missions are always my top priority.

"Oh, cool!" I said, looking into one of the quarter toy dispensers, "A Bob-omb." It was as though the cute little thing called out to me. I inserted a quarter and turned the knob. A little wind-up Bob-omb came out the chute and into my palm. I wound it and set it down. It took off, marching across the floor. Then, a small girl ran by, kicking my Bob-omb right outside the open automatic doors. "No!" I shouted and ran after the toy. I looked around outside, but saw no sign of my prize. I searched my metal pants...or, uh...legs for another quarter, but alas, I had nothing but dimes and pennies.

My stomach growled. "Cheerios!" I yelled aloud. People looked awkwardly at me as I hussled back into the store.

"Hi, how are you?" the greeter asked again.

"I'm a little sad about losing my Bob-omb, but I can't stay and talk. Goodbye."

The store seemed larger than I remembered, and more perplexing. I looked around for the grocery section, but didn't see any sign of it. Time was wasting, so I decided to head to my left. Hopefully the cereal isle would be in that direction.

It seemed I had wandered into housewares. Teflon and tupperware surrounded me. There were egg timers and egg beaters, stir friers and fry makers.

Then I saw the shiny object reflected in the reflection of me reflected on it. A glistening thermos sat on the shelf, bewildering my circuits and fondling my software with its mesmorizing effulgence.

I wasted no more time lost in its enchanting spell. I grabbed the thermos. It travelled with me on my quest for the Goodness of Cheerios.

After several minutes of exploration, my thermos and I found ourselves among shelves of cereal. My processor leaped when I saw its golden box, the golden box of my honey nut Holy Grail.


But trouble was afoot. As I reached for the cardboard coffer containing my cherished Cheerios, a callow child callously clutched the commodity.

"Cease and desist or be destroyed, damnable scum!" I yelled at the offender. He let out a strange noise as he dropped the box and ran off. I launched a fire grenade over his head. It did not kill, nor maim, as my plan was to frighten the young man. The warning was clear and to the point. He certainly wouldn't be breaking the law again anytime soon.

As I headed to the check-out lanes with my thermos and Cheerios in hand, I noticed that the customers in the store seemed panicked and more agitated than usual. I attributed their distress to the clearance sale. Ten loofahs for 99 cents would send anyone all a flutter.

I took my place at the end of the 12 item or less line and read the covers of all the delightful magazines. Paris and Nicole are friends again. If only everyone could be as appropriate and lawful as those two. But no, people today don't believe in friendship like the dutiful Nicole Richie and the virtuous Paris Hilton do.

Suddenly a silent alarm sounded inside my head. My sensors were picking up an imminent crime. The citizen second in line had exactly twelve items in his shopping cart. He was reaching for a Kit Kat. If my calculations were correct, that would give him well over twelve items.

"Freeze!" I shouted lifting my Auto-9 out of its holster.

"Don't shoot," the perp pleaded.

I don't know about you, but I'm not one to take orders from a low life. I let off two warning shots up into the wall behind him.

Citizens began to flee in panic. In the commotion my enemy managed to escape, but only for a while. I would begin my search for the culprit after completing my purchase.

"Excuse me," I said to the cashier ducked behind the counter. "Is this lane open?"

"Y..y...yes," she said, rising to her feet.

I placed my thermos and cheerios onto the counter.

"Um...how are you?" the cashier asked as she scanned my items.

"I'm well. And yourself?"

"I've had better days. Worse too actually."

"Well, it is Wal-Mart."

"That'll be five sixty-three."

I gave her a six dollar bill and said, "Keep the change." There was no time for change. A fugative was on the run. Sack in hand, I walked for the exit.

"Hi. How are you?" the greeter asked.

"Out of the way, citizen!" I shouted and pushed the overweight, elderly, handicapped individual to the floor, for his own safety. Through the glass doors I could see the law breaker outside, looking around as though he had misplaced his vehicle...or perhaps he was seeking out a vehicle to purloin for his getaway.

I reached for my flame thrower nozzle and took aim, running outside toward the man. Just as the fire ejected I was hit by a passing car. A nearby shopping cart caught the blast. I fell to the ground with a roll. As I got to my feet I had a terrible realization that I was no longer shiny.

But the wrong-doer had spotted me and was frantically looking for an escape route. I pulled the trigger on my flame thrower, but it had been damaged in the fall.

I pulled out my Auto-9 and approached the scofflaw with my gun raised to his head. He trembled in fear, holding his bag of groceries.

Suddenly, he reached into the bag and pulled out an object. He tossed the bag and its other contents away as he seemed to aim the item at me. Quickly, I swung the bag containing my thermos and Cheerios into the side of his head. He spun and fell face first on the asphalt. A glass of tomato juice fell from his hand and shattered on the parking lot. His unconscious body fell on top of the broken glass.

It seemed to me he had learned his lesson. And my flame thrower was malfunctioning so I had no way to set him ablaze. I decided to leave him be. "When you awake," I said to the languid hoodlum, "Remember the wrong you have done. Devote yourself to righting it. Not just the wrong of today, but every wrong you have ever committed. Next time, I won't be so lenient."

As my words undoubtedly repeated within his tranced encephalon I turned to leave. I took a short pause and thought to myself, Nobody will dare mess with this Wal-Mart now