Hi, I’m Jim Ficks and this is Wal-Mart. At Wal-Mart, we cheer every morning, working ourselves up into a ravenous furor in the name of the great one and only, the provider, the destroyer – Wal-Mart of America. I’m Jim Ficks, and I have a job now. You Don’t. I’m Jim Ficks. My job is to rally employees working for $8 an hour, to rally together and “cheer” on our company name as audaciously as though they were speaking the unspeakable name of Yahweh himself.
Oh, HA HA. Don’t kid yourself! The Wal-Mart cheer not your typical high school cheer. At Wal-Mart, our morning cheers are actually the wailing song of abandoned hope, tinged with self-hatred the likes of which you never knew existed. That is, until our corporate overseer stated, in a company newsletter, that every morning from now until the end of human civilization will begin with a light-hearted climaxing chant, grow to a dull pulsing roar, and finally explode into a fireball of frenzied rage. Sweet, profit-maximizing rage. Don’t just watch – but focus – as the bald one they call “Joey” bristles with tension before snapping free from his hate-filled fervor, ready to seize the day like the throat of his enemy. Ready for blood, ready to stock shelves.
YOU LIKE THAT, YEAH YOU LIKE THAT DON’T YOU WAL-MART
WE HATE NIGGERS FOR YOU, WAL-MART. WE HATE OURSELVES. WE JUST WANNA COME IN THERE AND BUY YOU $2.15 CORN DOGS WAL-MART. WE NEED YOUR NITRATES IN OUR TOXIC BODIES TO MAINTAIN EQUILIBRIUM, WAL-MART, LEST WE TIP THE BALANCE OF HATE IN THE DEVIL’S HONOR. DACTARAI!!!!! FOR YOUR LOVE, MINE PRINCE OF PURITY. FOR YOUR PROFIT! Erodium Purus Nosferatu! MY PALE, FLUSHED FACE WAL-MART IT BURNS WITH SODIUM IODIDE, WAL-MART. WWWWWAAAAAAAAALLLL-MAAAARRRRRRRT!
5 replies on “The Two Minutes Hate: Wal-Mart Edition”
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One hell of a workplace cult there. They’re all blowing the bald guy.
The problem with women the likes of Stephanie L. and Jean A. is the same problem certain men had against women, their inability to tolerate. There is nothing perverse about a man right to choose to wear tights. I bet if Stephanie and Jean each had to choose between dating a rapist vs one who wears tights, they each choose a rapist. Now that being a pervert. fake oakleys
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