“Do you know what the Illuminati,… you know, the top one percent, do you know what they call the rest of us?” I couldn’t wait to hear the answer. This beautiful, buck toothed, scraggly woman at the Walmart check out had peaked my interest. I didn’t mind that she confused the wealthiest people in the world with the Illuminati. I don’t mind that she actually believes there is a private social club that controls all of our lives. Maybe, there is. I don’t claim to know about things I can’t possibly know. I just know I love to hear crazy people speak. “Useless eaters”. she said, ” That’s what they call us”. I thought, that’s not so bad. I often feel like a useless eater. I agree with the Illuminati. Maybe I am one!

Turns out, after a comprehensive google search, five days after the statement rattled inside my head, that consisted of one very easy search, I discovered that the iIlluminati didn’t say that. It was the Nazis.

Damn! I am so dissatisfied with the customer service at Wal-Mart. I want to complain, but to whom?

Then, I remembered the rest of the cashier’s platform. “Well, when those Illuminati meet the Lord, they’ll find out, real quick”.

“I suppose they’ll get what’s coming to them”, replied the long, white hair, bearded man with minimal enthusiasm.

When it was my turn at the cashier, I just said, “What the Hell? Ten cent’s for a god-damned paper bag! This is bullshit!! Fuck the Illuminati!” Then I peed on everything and exposed myself to the cameras in the ceiling. “Sam Walton would have burned you all!!” I exclaimed. Then I wrapped myself in pool noodles and sang God Bless America. After three back flips by the security guard, we consummated and drank a case of Gatorade.

Actually, I didn’t do any of that. I just don’t have an end to this story. I wonder what the Illuminati would think if I did do that? Oh well, who cares? I’m hungry. Fuckin’ Nazis.