If we only had a brain

KAFOOM! That was the sound. The far-off sound of a huge, ominous STOMP that was heard one sunny day in the attractive and developable valley.

KAFOOM! KAFOOM! The stomps did not cease, but came closer. The people were alarmed. Whatever it was that was creating those awful sounds, it was headed toward their idyllic valley. What could it be? KAFOOM!

Finally, with one last KAFOOM, a giant robot arrived. It stopped, looming ominously over the valley. A helicopter flew out of the robot’s head, carrying a man with an ominous briefcase. On his briefcase were the ominous letters B.M. Then, the people knew: Big Mart.

The man requested a meeting with the valley’s leaders and informed them that the valley had now grown large enough to sufficiently support a Real Big Mart. He was here to find a suitable parcel. The leaders expressed concerns. They weren’t quite sure they wanted a Real Big Mart. The man told them not to worry about it, just give us the permit, and be snappy about it.

But the leaders decided to not give the permit. Big Mart was not happy. Instead of going away, as the leaders had hoped, Big Mart requested another hearing. They wanted the leaders to talk with a team of Big Mart lawyers. Whatever, said the leaders, rolling their eyes. But when the day came for the meeting, the leaders were met with a nasty surprise. The lawyers turned out to be bat-winged monkeys, who quickly hopped into the conference room and sprayed the leaders with sleeping gas. When the leaders woke up, they were horrified to see that they were tied to their chairs with Big Mart duct tape, and face to face with the Big Bitch of Big Mart herself!

“Well, well, well, my pretties,” said the Bitch, “I have a deal to propose. You see this?” She held up a baggie containing a large golden key. “This is the key to your valley’s vault of gold, secretly given to me months ago by members of your various planning commissions.”

The leaders squirmed uncomfortably.

“Here’s what you will do to get your precious key back!” she roared. “You will give me the permit I seek! Or else I will hand this key to my crackerjack team of merciless bat-winged attorneys, who will see to it that your moderately wealthy treasury will be slowly drained of its riches. I want your answer … now!”

One leader dared to speak to the old hag. “The judge will never let this happen!”

The Bitch’s smile dripped with nasty evilness. “Don’t be so sure, my pretty.” And she held up another baggie, this one containing two small, pulpy, ovoid objects. “You see, I think he wants these back.”

One year later, the new Real Big Mart opened. Banners in the parking lot proclaimed “Big Mart—Resistance is Futile.” Hordes of peasants swarmed about, predictably, in record-setting numbers.

And KAFOOM! The giant robot headed for the valley of the capital city.