Walking out of Wal-Mart, I dropped my juice. The plastic bottle began to roll on the slightly sloped asphalt of the parking lot. I walked after it at first, but abruptly it began to accelerate. I ran to block it but its velocity was increasing exponentially. Eventually I had to stop and forlornly watch my Ocean-Spray cranberry juice tumble away at speeds exceeding three thousand miles per hour. "I need my juice," I said, as my nameless associate strolled up beside me. He was chewing grape-flavored gum. He popped it and said, "I'll drive."

We were in the car five minutes later in hot pursuit of One Rogue Container of Cranberry Juice. We caught up with it around France, where it had holed itself up in a cannery and was apparently holding several containers of onion dip (French) hostage. We didn't want to disturb the situation, so we moved in slowly. About the time we reached the front door, the first shot rang out. Immediately I was inside and firing. Six profound arguments from the late philosophers Smith and Wesson leapt forth, slamming into the juice. It gushed juicy red like a torpedoed whale, the bitter life-juices flowing out onto the tile floor. I stood on a crate so as not to ruin my shoes. My friend walked in then, and surveyed the scene. He asked me, "Did you get him?"

"Well, yes and no," I answered. "I've destroyed his vehicle, but he's escaped onto the tile floor and we don't have a mop." We ignored a grotesquely wounded onion dip container that was staggering towards us.

"You really ought to have a paper towel or something," lamented my partner. The dip was whining pitifully, leaving a creamy trail behind it as it scooted across the floor. I directed it to a nearby potted plant. It was racked by indecision but averted a crisis by dying suddenly. The others burbled in agony. I holstered my gun and jumped down from the crate.

"No, I don't," I said. "Just forget it."

About that time a nearby armchair attacked and killed my partner. I left with the potted plant and fled to Canada. The plant and I hit it off, and we have a garden together now.

I never saw any of the dips again.