The story resumes about one day later with
Beowolf (sorter of cereals after a recent promotion from flower sorter) sorting
some cereal. The great Sam’s Club has been returned to its former glory, and
all of its customers know peace and great products at reasonable prices.
Now
it’s time to switch tenses, and start telling the story.
Beowolf,
employee of the month, was walking through Sam’s Club pushing a cart with
cereal on it.
The
next thing he knew, he was pushed roughly into a display of women’s
under-things and the cart banged into his shin, causing him a brief stab of
soft pain.
He
disentangled himself from the thong, and saw a hulking Swedish woman attacking
one of the cereal boxes.
“You
have to pay for that!” Beowolf exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the cereal
box.
The
Swede looked at him, and flexed her bulging muscles. Beowolf felt his pants
suddenly soil.
“I
will get my revenge!” the woman howled as she charged towards the employees’
lounge.
Beowolf
grabbed his walkie-talkie and said into it, “Hrothgar, we have a problem.”
“Don’t
tell me the Swede got another arm,” Hrothgar said on the other end.
“No,
but it appears his mother wants it back,” Beowolf replied as he ran.
“Where’s
she headed?”
“To
the employees’ lounge.”
“I’ll
be right there!” Then there was a click as Hrothgar hung up.
Beowolf
dove through a shelf, upsetting several bags of rice that spilled everywhere,
and a few boxes of soda cans that began to leak.
When
at last he caught sight of the Swede, she was charging through the pharmacy
section towards the employees’ lounge. Hrothgar emerged from the stairs to the
second floor, held his arms out, and bellowed in his manager-like voice, “The
lounge is for employees only! Perhaps you would like to see reduced prices on-”
but he was cut off as Grendel’s mother rammed into him, sending him flying into
a sample cart full of grape-juice.
Then
the Swede ran up the stairs.
Beowolf
reached his purple manager. “Are you alright, sir?”
Hrothgar
swore under his breath as he got up. The only thing he said was, “These stains
will take forever to get out.”
Taking
that as an order to pursue the Swede, Beowolf pursued the Swede. He dashed up
the stairs towards the cries of his associates as they were shoved aside by the
Swede.
He
turned a corner, and saw the employees’ lounge. Grendel’s mother was running
towards the arm mounted on its plaque while an employee lay on the floor with
his head stuffed into a box of packing peanuts.
Then
the Swede grabbed the arm and ran back down the hall like a quarterback going
for a touchdown.
Beowolf,
ever brave/stupid, faced her down.
“Stop
right” was all he had time to get out before the Swede rammed him in the gut,
bowling him over.
His
head hit the concrete floor, and he was knocked out.
Grendel’s mother ran out of the store,
ignoring the cries of the man at the door for her to present her receipt.
She
got into the waiting Saab and handed her son his arm.
“I
got it,” she said.
“Thanks
mom, but I kind of wanted more than just my arm back,” said Grendel.
“What
do you mean?” she asked as she gunned it out of the parking lot.
“I
mean that flower-sorter and his friends still keep their Sam’s Club, while all
I get is a plastic arm.”
“What
would you rather have?” she asked.
“I
want this Sam’s Club gone.” He pounded his hand into his fist for emphasis.
“Well,
we do have a place that can do just that.”
Grendel’s
eyes lit up. “You mean…”
“We’ll
put them out of business, and continue the Swedish take-over of America.”
Then
they had themselves an evil laugh, and they continued their journey.
When Beowolf came to, Hrothgar was standing
next to his bed, and his mother was on the other side.
“My
poor Bobby!” she cried.
It
was then Beowolf noticed he was in a hospital bed.
“What
happened?” Beowolf asked.
Hrothgar
sighed and said, “Not only do the Swedes have the arm, we’ve gotten a call from
a competitor accusing us of fraud. Now we’re going to be put out of business.”
“WHAT?!”
Beowolf exclaimed as he sat upright in bed. This, however, made him feel faint
and he threw up all over Hrothgar’s clean suit.
“Our
only hope is to prove our innocence by beating the crap out of our competition,
and you’re the best man for the job, Beowolf,” Hrothgar said.
The
next day, Beowolf was standing in the wreckage of the employees’ lounge,
looking at the space where the arm once hung. The rest of the staff of Sam’s
Club was standing behind him, and Beowolf knew he had to keep their hopes up.
“I
will journey to the Swedes’ base and
destroy them!” he exclaimed in his best dramatic voice.
“Too
bad you’re only half the hero you claim to be,” said a voice.
Beowolf
turned and saw a sad looking employee from the electronics department slumped
on what was once a couch. “You once challenged the previous employee of the
month, Jeff, to see who could help the most customers in a day.”
“I
guess,” Beowolf said.
“Well,
if you are such a strong employee, why did you lose? You could’ve easily won,
seeing as Jeff is about as beautiful and friendly as a crocodile with a zit the
size of beach ball on his face.” Jeff, who was a big, burly man who looked like
a hit-man on a bad day, grunted, which was usually a sign that the immediate
area was about to become a crime-scene.
“I
lost because when I working, a crotchety old lady who had just gotten a hip
replacement showed up and started complaining. I wasn’t able to get even ten customers because of her and the way
she kept angrily throwing flowers at me. Even Jeff agreed I was the winner for
handling myself and only threatening her once.”
After
informing the guy thusly, Beowolf left for Hrothgar’s office.
“Sir,
I’m ready to go,” he said.
“We’re
going to take some extra employees along so we can use the carpool lanes,” Hrothgar
said as he got up.
Beowolf
and the employees piled into Hrothgar’s SUV, and they set off. The car ride was
short and boring, and soon Hrothgar had parked. Beowolf got of the car, and
looked at the area around them.
There
was a bubbling run-off lake directly in front of them. There were hobos
clustered around a fire on an island in the middle, and the pond appeared to be
on fire.
At
one point, the smoke was blown away by the wind, and Beowolf and the group laid
eyes on the lair and base of operations of the Swedes.
Its
blue and yellow brick walls rose forty feet into the air and one corner of the
building had a tower on it that boasted the lair’s name.
It
was called IKEA.
“Seriously!?”
Beowolf asked. “IKEA?!”
Hrothgar
nodded. “IKEA is a Swedish plot to take over American companies. It would make
sense that Grendel and his mother would be hiding here.”
“I
guess the only thing to do is infiltrate IKEA and bring them down,” Beowolf
said. “I shall swim across this runoff pool of flame, and bring them to
justice.”
But
before Beowolf could head off, the employee who had insulted him earlier spoke.
“Before
you go, let me say I’m sorry for the way I treated you, Beowolf. My name’s Bill
and I work in the electronics.
“I’m
sorry I was so rude earlier. Coffee does weird things to me.”
“It’s
alright,” Beowolf replied.
“I’d
like you to borrow my lucky pen,” said Bill as he handed Beowolf a pen from his
pocket. “I hope its luck works in your favor.”
“Thanks.”
The Beowolf walked down to the water’s edge. After only a moment’s hesitation,
he dove into the water, and immediately did a belly-flop onto the shallow mud
there.
He
stood up, the front of his uniform coated in sticky muck. He had gone about
three feet, and he felt the eyes of his friends.
“You’re
going to want to dry-clean that when you’re finished,” Hrothgar said.
Beowolf
kept slogging through the mud. When he was about half way across, the mud
suddenly fell out, and he plunged into the warm water.
He
accidentally got some of it in his mouth, and he was desperately kicking to the
surface to spit out the foul liquid.
He
breathed deeply and kept swimming.
After
what felt like hours but was probably minutes, he felt the mud again. He stood
up, and saw that the IKEA was now looming over him.
“Humph,”
Beowolf said.
He
reached the opposite shore, his uniform filthy. One of his shoes was missing,
and the mud was already starting to dry on his arms and legs.
Shaking
off what he could, Beowolf went bravely around to the front entrance. He got a
lot of strange looks from the customers entering IKEA, and he returned friendly
smiles.
He
was stopped at the entrance by and employee of IKEA.
“Sir,
I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said.
Beowolf
took a deep breath and bellowed in his best dramatic voice, “BY ORDER OF JIM
WHO IS CALLED HROTHGAR AND FOR THE SANCTITY OF THE GREAT SAM’S CLUB, YOU’RE
GOING TO LET ME IN!”
“Yeah,
right,” said the employee as he put Beowolf in a head lock.
The
employee forced Beowolf through the entrance, and then took him to the
employees’ lounge. Another IKEA worker grabbed some tape out of somewhere, and
soon they had duct-taped Beowolf to a chair, his arms and legs bound.
“Foul
Swedes!” Beowolf yelled. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”
“We’re
restraining an insane man,” said the first employee.
“Let’s
go,” said the other. “They’re having a special on meatballs.”
As
they walked out, Beowolf yelled, “If you don’t let me go I’ll stay here!”
“Duh!”
they yelled back.
“I
thought that would work,” Beowolf sighed.
He
looked around. He was bound to a chair, and in one corner of the room there was
a coffee machine precariously balanced on a cheap, Swedish shelf. Next to it
was a heater.
Using
all his cereal sorting might, Beowolf leaned forward and got to his feet.
“Ha
ha!” he said before he fell forwards onto a coffee table.
He
yelled in pain, and turned his face away from the fake-wood table.
After
getting back into an almost upright position, Beowolf rushed forward and rammed
head on into the wall with the shelf on it. The shelf fell and hit him on the
head. Burning coffee spilled over his front, and he felt wounded.
He
screamed a dirty word very loudly.
However,
the burning sensation didn’t go away. That was when Beowolf smelled burning
furniture, and saw that his plan to burn the tape off with the heater had gone
too well, and now he was strapped to burning chair.
He
yelled another swear word and, in a fit of desperation, ran for the door just
as an employee was opening it.
“What
the-” was all the employee had time to say before he was run over by a dirty,
flaming Sam’s Club cereal sorter.
“BACK,
FOUL SWEDES!” Beowolf screamed, shortly followed by, “SOMEBODY GET THIS CHAIR
OFF OF ME!”
As
he burst into the lobby, the fire alarm rang, and water gushed down from the
ceiling. Shoppers panicked and dropped their things. A cart full of discount stäm products went tumbling down the up
escalator, causing general chaos.
Beowolf
sprinted through the store, the chair somehow still on fire. Suddenly, he
slipped on a burst bag of kanelbullar and
went flying, butt-over-teacup, into the air. He landed, and the burning tape
holding the chair broke, and Beowolf was freed.
“Yes!”
he exclaimed just before a line of carts slammed into him. He stumbled
backwards into a stack of jaren
boxes. He looked to see what had caused the carts to move, and saw Grendel
standing with an aläng in his hand.
His
prosthetic hand.
Beowolf
stood up and said, “I’m glad to see you got your arm back.”
Grendel
smiled an evil looking smile. “Too bad you’ll be losing yours.”
Beowolf’s
face fell. “That’s not a good sign,” he said.
Just
then, Grendel charged forward, screaming something that might’ve been a Swedish
battle-cry or the sound a constipated giraffe makes. As he charged, he ripped
the ekås off of the aläng, revealing a spear-like point.
Beowolf
dove to the side as Grendel stabbed the jaren
box. Then, while the Swede was pulling out his weapon, he jumped at him.
Grendel swung his good arm at Beowolf while he was in mid-air, and sent him
tumbling backwards onto the concrete floor.
Before
Beowolf could get to his feet, Grendel’s mother picked him up in a full-Nelson,
and held him as Grendel strode forward, his meaty hands curled into meaty
fists.
Beowolf
lashed out with his legs and hit Grendel square in the chest, pushing him
backwards and sending him slipping on the wet floor. Then he reached into his
breast pocket, pulled out the pen Bill had given him, clicked it, and poked the
Swedish matron in the forehead.
She
screamed in agony and dropped Beowolf. Then she grabbed the pen and crushed it
in one massive hand.
Beowolf
took this opportunity to make a break for it.
As
he sprinted through the show-room, Grendel and his mother both grabbed wheeled
boxes with expedits in them and
pushed them through the front doors of the store. The anti-theft alarm began to
blare, adding its whine to that of the fire-alarm, and metal gratings began to
drop.
Beowolf,
in his sprint, saw these gratings start to close, and he ran all the harder as
he barely slipped under one gate before it closed. He grabbed a fillsta and hurled it under a grating
before it could close. He slid under the gate and continued on his mad dash.
Just
then, a shelf to his side exploded inward, sending aborgs and basnäses
flying. Grendel and his mother came hurtling through the gap, each of them
carrying a kvartal. Beowolf dodged a
swing from the mother, and barely ducked under a lunge from Grendel. He dove
under a grating as it slammed shut and looked behind at the Swedes as he ran.
He
saw Grendel’s mother grab the mesh of the grating and rip a hole large enough
to step through with her bare hands. Simultaneously, Grendel tore the grating
down from its spool and it fell with a clatter to the floor.
Beowolf
kept running.
He
at last reached a flight of stairs, but he saw at the top that a grating had
come down, leaving an elevator as the only mode of transportation to the next
floor.
Grendel
and his mother saw that Beowolf had a way to escape, and they redoubled their efforts,
tearing down the gratings that got in their way.
Beowolf
reached the elevator and began to push the ‘up’ button rapidly.
“Comeoncomeoncomeon!”
he said as he began to punch it. Behind him, he could hear the carnage that was
the Swedes getting closer.
Finally,
with a small ‘ding’, the elevator doors opened, and Beowolf hurried inside it
and mashed the ‘2’ button. The doors began to slowly close, and Grendel’s
mother, angered by this development, grabbed a row of carts and pushed them at
a run towards the closing doors. Beowolf dove to the side as the front of the
line slammed against the back wall of the elevator with a mighty crash, sending
carts flying everywhere. Then the doors closed, and the elevator began its
agonizingly slow climb.
Beowolf
let out his breath in a sigh of relief. Then the doors of the moving elevator
were ripped off by Grendel and fell with a clatter to the floor of the shaft.
Grendel leaped up at the floor of the elevator, and began to bend it down, the
metal squealing in protest.
Beowolf,
thinking quickly, grabbed several of the carts and pushed them at the Swede.
Grendel effortlessly swung from one hand to the other as he dodged the carts,
and he continued ripping off the floor of the elevator.
Just
as the floor was totally about to give, there was a ‘ding’ and the doors
opened. Beowolf dove out of the elevator as the floor was ripped away, sending
carts crashing down to the floor of the shaft.
He
heard the Swede shout what was probably a swear word and begin storming up the
stairs. He had just enough time to see Grendel and his mother burst through the
grating at the top of the stairs before he resumed running.
He
broke for the cafeteria, where the stoves were still running and the smell of
meatballs intoxicating. Grendel and his mother were close behind, vaulting over
the short divider that separated the cafeteria from the rest of the store.
Grendel’s mother picked up a box of charming
and hurled it at Beowolf, who ducked it as it smashed into a soda fountain,
spraying soda and lingenberry juice over our hero as he struggled to remain
upright on the increasingly slippery floor.
He
vaulted over a divider as Grendel threw a
glenn which hit the salad bar and shattered the glass sneeze-guard. Shards
flew and several cut Beowolf as he dove to the floor to dodge another glenn (this one from Mama Grendel) that
hit the dessert cooler. Glass exploded everywhere, and several bits of cake
splattered onto Beowolf as he vaulted behind the counter. Grendel, meanwhile,
had run over the dividers ninja-style, a fuga
in each hand. He threw one at Beowolf as he sprinted out from behind a cooler,
and it smashed into an oven. There was a blast of heat that forced Beowolf
forward towards the frying-vats where the meatballs simmered…
Then
several things happened simultaneously…
…Grendel’s
mother vaulted over the counter and charged at Beowolf with a kvartal…
…Grendel
threw a fuga that hit a stove-top,
and massive flames burst up between Beo and Mama G…
…Beowolf
grabbed a fry-vat full of oil and hurled it at the Swedish matron to force her
out of the way…
…The
fire extinguishers ran out of water…
The
oil flew through the air as if in slow motion, and seemed to take on the shape
of a bird in mid-air as it hit the jet of flame shooting out of the stove-top.
Then there was a phoenix-like splash of fire tumbling towards Mama G, who dove
out of the way as the fire splashed all over the stove tops.
(Please
note that the next portion of the story is best imagined in slow motion)
Beowolf
vaulted over the counter and hit the ground running as the greedy fire found
the propane tanks. The Swedes were temporary silhouettes against a flaming back
drop, and the explosion sent meat-balls flying like tiny comets into the
display banners. The fire travelled up the fuel pipe-line until it found the
next tanks, and the dividers and salad bar flew as several more explosions
blasted flaming craters in the cafeteria floor. The windows over-looking the
parking lot shattered and rained glass down over the front and the beam-work
that held up the roof collapsed in sprays of sparks. Beowolf saw Grendel barely
miss being hit by a swarm of flying henriksdal
as they were launched by the blasts.
‘Um
latins went streaking by inches in front of Beowolf, their two little dots over
the vowel flaming like the aforementioned meatballs. A chunk of pipe spiraled
by his head and buried itself three feet in the opposite wall.
Beowolf
looked up and saw that the ceiling over the exit was beginning to give way, and
he, Grendel and Mama G all dove to the floor and slid as the supports gave way
and the ceiling crashed down in a flurry of sparks and a blast of heat and
smoke.
(You
may now return to normal speed)
Beowolf
picked himself up and sprinted as the Swedes jumped to their feet and continued
their pursuit. He ran down a hall towards a door which read EMPLOYEES ONLY as
the walls burst into flame around him and the floor began to collapse.
He
ran through the doors at top speed, and almost went flying off of ledge
overlooking the display floor sixty feet below.
“We’ve
got you now!” bellowed the Swedes.
Beowolf
looked to his left, and saw a giant shelf stacked with karlstads not seven feet away. He dug in and ran full tilt towards
it, and jumped the gap over the floor just as the Swedes entered the room. Beo
saw them following, and began to hurry along the shelf, hoping that he could
find a way to another shelf that didn’t involve falling to his death.
Just
then, Mama G and Grendel leaped to the shelf, and their combined weight tilted
the shelf over. The boxes fell as the shelf began to lean heavily to one side…
…and
then the shelf tipped over all the way and hit the next shelf over. Beo jumped
to this next one as the shelves toppled like dominoes. The Swedes were close
behind him as he hopped from shelf to shelf.
Then
he had no place to go. The shelf that was falling didn’t have a shelf next to
it, and so it was doomed to fall straight to the bottom. The only escape was a
hose dangling from the beam-work that held up the roof.
Beo
jumped for it, and successfully grabbed it. He was about to climb up it when
suddenly his foot was grabbed from below. He looked down and saw Grendel
holding onto his foot with his fake arm, and Mama G was dangling from her son’s
legs. Above them, the beam-work was creaking under the strain of the heavy
Swedes, and the first few bolts snapped ominously as the shelf they had just
jumped from fell flaming to the floor.
“Nowhere
to run now, sorter of pansies,” Grendel snarled as he began to climb up
Beowolf.
More
bolts popped out.
Beowolf,
in a fit of sheer terror, burst out in laughter.
“What’s
so funny?” Mama G asked from below.
“You
guys!” Beowolf exclaimed.
Several
explosions rocked the beam-work, and it bent noticeably.
“I
never thought of myself as a comedian!” shouted Grendel as he reached Beowolf’s
knees.
“You
just don’t think things through!” Beowolf laughed.
There
was a loud pop as part of the beam-work snapped.
“How’s
that?” the Swedes asked.
“You
only think of the peaks in life!” Beowolf explained. “You only plan for the
rises…”
The
beam-work snapped, and the three of them fell several feet before the bent
beams stopped. The hose jerked, and left Grendel holding on by one hand…
…the
prosthetic one.
“…but
you forget to plan for the falls,” Beo finished. Then he kicked Grendel as hard
as he could in the shoulder with the fake arm.
There
was a ‘pop’ as it came loose…
…and
Grendel and Mama G both howled in defeat as they fell towards the burning
wreckage below.
Beowolf
grabbed the arm and stuck into his pants. Then he climbed up the hose onto the
beam work and saw a hole where the roof had collapsed. He grabbed the edge of
the hole, and pulled himself up onto the roof of the building.
All
around him, huge sections of the building were crumbling, and smoke filled the
air as explosions rocked the IKEA. Beowolf sprinted for the edge of the
building over-looking the run-off pond as the tower which proudly proclaimed
the store’s name began to slide off its perch.
Onomotapeia
flew as Beowolf jumped off the side of the building Die Hard style, and the
tower with the sign fell into the store. As Beowolf fell, the entire roof
collapsed, and the flaming ceiling crushed the cheap Swedish furniture as it
continued on its path towards the ground.
Then,
as Beo landed in the murky water of the pond, the walls of the IKEA fell in on
themselves, and with a final explosion and a shower of sparks, the store was
destroyed.
Beowolf
swam to the shore where Hrothgar and the others were waiting.
“I
hope I’m getting paid overtime for this,” Beowolf said as he presented the arm.
“That
was pretty cool,” Bill said. “And it only took about ten minutes.”
“Let’s
just go home,” Beowolf said as he climbed into the shotgun seat of Hrothgar’s
car.
Meanwhile, in Sweden, the CEO of IKEA heard
his phone ring.
“Ya?”
he said.
“Sir,
de agents Grendel and Mama Grendel have been keeled and our main American base
destroyed.”
“No
problem,” he said. “We just need to change tactics…”
He
looked out the window at the hundreds of Saabs parked outside, and the Nobel
Prizes that hung on the walls.
“No
problem.”
Things returned to normal after that.
Grendel’s arm was returned to its plaque in the employees’ lounge. Beowolf went
back to sorting cereal (though he was asked for autographs a lot more often),
and Hrothgar managed to get that stain out of his shirt. Bill stayed away from
caffeine, and IKEA faded away into the background.
But
the time came for the work-week to end, and all the Sam’s Club employees were
sad to see Beowolf go.
“You
did a fine job, Bob,” said Hrothgar as he handed Beowolf his paycheck.
“Thanks,”
Beo said. “And feel free to keep the arm.”
“Okay,”
said Hrothgar, shaking Beowolf’s hand.
Beowolf
walked towards the exit, but stopped and turned around to look back at his fellow employees.
They
were acting like they didn’t even know he was leaving.
Beo smiled as he walked
out the door…
