Men in tights jumping and twirling around

Men in tights jumping and twirling around stage with sugar plum fairies. It's Nutcracker season again. Every year I suffer through it. The only good part of the whole damn show is

the dancing bear because inevitably some young child will call out "Is that a real bear?" and I'm able to claim post-traumatic stress response from my bear attack in '83 and get a

little sympathy. One fateful day, however, I broke down completely when I was at the supermarket and Grateful Dead's Dancing Bear music came on. I freaked out & ran screaming down

Aisle 13 where I collided with some poor young guy stocking and fronting cans, who was nearly crushed to death when several cases of Aunt Minnie's Seasoned Beans fell upon his

shoulders, followed by a cacophonous din as the cans rolled across the floor banging into the shelves across the aisle. I mumbled and apology then pushed my cart past his

unconscious body. I pretended to look at my list ignoring the stares of the other shoppers. The PA crackled, "Attention customers: Clean up in aisle 11 due to doofus. Sorry for

the inconvenience." The others relieved by the sense of routine returned to their shopping. I shoved the snoring body into the cart and inconspicuously wheeled it towards checkout

lane six, the one reserved for those with nine bodies or less. Up ahead I saw a tall guy wiith ten snoring bodies in his cart just about to join the line. Scowling vehemently I

walked right up to him, ripping an arm off one of the bodies in my cart as an intimidation weapon. "Just what do you think you're doing here?" I growled. Unfazed, he

licked his teeth as though to menace my dentist. He reached into his pocket and revealed my true nature. And that, officer, is why I trashed the place.