Filthy McNasty and lady Vera are back in the Hayduke news with some fine updates on supermarket revenge.
Here’s their first dispatch. Either you or a friend go into the supermarket and buy a bottle of catsup, steak, barbeque or spaghetti sauce and take it home. Open it and insert several dead cockroaches, beetles, dead lizards, or whatever. Reseal the bottle or jar and return it, saying that you got the wrong brand, and exchange it, without letting the clerk look into the bottle. Some supermarket geek will put it back on the shelf. Eventually, some customer will buy it, and come dinner time… Back it goes with a full-blown case of hysteria, let’s hope right in front of other shoppers.
For another stunt, walk into the market with a friend or two, making sure you are well within earshot of as many customers as possible. Discuss the recent outbreak of botulism poisoning that the health department has traced to that particular market. This is especially good if the market has a deli or hot food take-out service.
Still talking, even though the Tylenol cyanide poisoning are old hat now, mention how the police are looking for a copycat poisoner in the area of the market of your choice. You can add a twist to this also. As you are in the checkout line with a few groceries, start eating from a bag of potato chips, cookies, or whatever that you are buying. Be sure that lots of customers can see you. Suddenly clutch your chest, then your stomach, and act as if you are poisoned.
Make disgusting noises, and generally give the impression that you are going to croak right there in the market. Scream that the stuff you were eating was poisoned. A couple of accomplices whisk you out of the store into a car to “go to the hospital emergency room.” You make a clean getaway. Improvise on this one and you can have a lot of fun.
It’s great to have my buddies back – the terror of the supermarket cabal – Filthy McNasty and Vera. Not only are they fun folks, but they concoct, perform and write well about funny things. This time, they are taking an even bigger dump on the supermarkets. What set off this terrific tirade by this terrible twosome? The daughter of a good friend was a stockperson at a local produce pit and was the victim of extreme sexual abuse, economic butchery and employer violence, compounded by the old-boy network of the local newspaper, small-town officials, the courthouse crowd, etc. You recognize the usual cesspool of small-town crap. Enter Filty and Vera.
Filthy said he first set himself up as a bag boy at the mark’s huge emporium of grocery grossness. It was easy. He just copped a white apron, dressed as they dress and became a four-dollar an hour moron carrying out folks’ grocery bags. Let Filthy pick up the story.
“After bagging a customer to the car, round up five or six empty carts and look for a customer just entering or leaving their cage [biker lingo for a car]. Choose an expensive set of wheels or look for people who appear to be uptight creeps.
“Then roll that thundering row of charts broadside into their car… whammmmm, you know what that does to cheap car doors. The people will bitch and yell. Tell them to bitch at the owner, the carts are his, not yours. When they persist, tell them to screw off. When they steam off to the store, you split.”
You might come back to the same place a week or so later and repeat this same stunt.
Filthy and Vera’s second chapter involves you and/or your surrogate bag boys standing outside the store or just inside the door offering straight customers some new premiums for shopping there. Offer them acid, a joint, some hash, a swig of scotch from your bottle, some kiddy porn, maybe even flash someone. Be prepared to make a fast exit on this one, so control your laughter. It’s tough to run when you’re hysterical.
Filthy and Vera say this next one takes balls, but I think mostly takes good, strong arms and fast feet. They call it “Food fight” and it becomes obvious as you read.
A bunch of friends, six to ten, go casually into the mark’s store. After a minute or so for all to get settled into a location (preplanning is vital here), the leader grabs one of those PA system phones for in-store announcements and says “Attention shoppers. (Mr./Ms. mark’s name), our manager, welcomes you to our seventh annual food fight. Participate and win a $200 gift certificate and, remember, it’s all legal and all in fun.”
With that, you shills start flinging everything they can at each other and at the straight customers, who, hopefully, will join in. Try to throw stuff that makes splashy messes.
Tip over people’s carts, pie them, spill food from shelves, fire spray cans of shaving cream and whipped cream at people as you dash by. Totally trash the place. Obviously, you and your ringleaders will wish to escape before order is restore and blame begins to settle out of the messy chaos. You have about ten minutes on this stunt. Who says market day had to be boring!
Are we having fun, gang? You bet!!!
Let’s tone down the levity for a moment and do something very subtle, simple and effective. Locate the mark’s store’s silent alarm – they all have them. Set it off or short it out. Split fast, or just continue to shop if you were able to hit the alarm without being spotted (watch for TV cameras and surveillance mirrors).
Or, here’s another stunt. Most markets have outdoor banners and signs with the weekly specials advertised. Some creative editing will alter “Ground Beef $0.89 Per Pound,” or whatever the store has, to “Fresh Dog Crap $0.49 a Pound,” or “Fermented Iranian Pimples $0.15 Ea,” or “Fresh Wino Piss, $1 a Pint.”
Speaking of whom, do you know some old winos? You can probably bribe several of them to lie down in front of the mark’s market and drink their bottles. It may repel a few customers. Also, bribe one of the winos to puke on someone.
More Supermarket Payback Ideas
Oswald Rankin doesn’t like large supermarket chains. He has a favorite game he plays with them, using a least favorite acquaintance as an unwitting accomplice. Ossie explains his game.
“I go to the bulletin board of a store out of my neighborhood and remove a policy notice from the bulletin board, since the statement is usually printed on corporate letterhead. At home, I cut off the letterhead and with rubber cement, dummy up a blank piece of paper under it to create a new blank piece of letterhead. I take this to a self-operated coin photocopy machine and get a few good copies that are as clean as the original with no smears or lines showing.
“I call the corporation and learn who a couple of the vice-presidents are by name. Then I type, very carefully and professionally, using a rental electric typewriter at the local library, a very nice letter to several of my least favorite acquaintances. I tell each of them they have won some fabulous prize at their neighborhood store…like a small color TV set or two hundred dollars’ worth of free groceries, something like that. I tell them they should come in Saturday and claim their prize. I sign the VP’s name and mail the bogus letter.
“They show up, and the local store manager is puzzled. He doesn’t know what to do. It’s Saturday, and he can’t call the corporate headquarters. What does he tell the customers? Will they get upset with him? With the store? What do you think happens Monday? And beyond?”
Happy Shopping, Oswald Rankin.
If you’re upset by a large corporation that owns a dairy, here’s an old trick milk truck drivers used to pull on each other a few years back, before the mammoth agricorporations destroyed competition. The driver for, say, the Udderly Sweet Dairy used a medical syringe to inject a few squirts of lemon concentrate into the milk containers of the Joyful Jugs Dairy. The customer who bought Joyful Jugs milk would find the product sour as soon as she/he opened the container and would storm back to the supermarket to sour their corporate milk. It doesn’t take too many stormy customers for a supermarket to dump all over a dairy.
Today, of course, medical syringes are only a bit tougher to obtain, lemon concentrate is easily available, and delivery men don’t do this to each other any more because their bosses are all paid by the same international holding corporation. But you aren’t and can.
I once interviewed a supermarket manager for an article I wrote on shoplifting. I wanted to find out whether Homer Husband and Harriet Housewife were boosting expensive food as a response to zooming price increases. The very first words out of his mouth were, “Ahhh, we refer to that sort of activity as ‘inventory shrinkage’ in this business.”
Whatever they call it, a lot of people are doing it.
Abbie Hoffman has some interesting ways of stealing from markets that have been targeted for whatever reason:
- Empty out a pound box of the cheapest margarine you can find and fill it back up with four sticks of the best butter in the store.
- Sew a bag inside your overcoat to receive cuts of meat. Don’t be greedy; you don’t want to look too bulky.
- Two or three phonograph records can be placed inside one of those large frozen-pizza boxes.
- Fake an epileptic seizure while your partner, who has already cleaned out the meat counter, flees during the confusion.
- According to Hoffman, stolen food tastes a lot better than store-bought.
Filthy McNasty is a true suburban guerrila. He tells me that you can harass a supermarket by planting smokebombs, especially if you and some cohorts fan the fear by paniking and screaming “FIRE! FIRE!”
He also suggests you can trap and let loose wild critters in a market. Opossums, rabbits, mice, lab rats, and squirrels are all good guests to introduce to the market. Birds do well when released into a crowded market – both small, dirty nuisance birds like grackles and the larger ones like pigeons.
Add a few dead roaches to a large bag of crickets, which you can get from a bait shop, and let this loose in the market. Most people will assume the crickets are really cockroaches. This is great for cranking up the rumour mill, too. Filthy says if you can display some roadkill or dead lab rats in with some real goodies for sale in the meat cases, it will help things along.
Don’t go shopping with S ‘n M from Ansonia, Connecticut either. He gets back at nasty supermarkets by using a strong pin and sticking holes in the bottoms of milk cartons and plastic soda bottles.
“With a little reconnaissance, you can also discover where you can either turn down or shut off freezers and coolers in the store. Also find a new product called `Magic Shell.’ It is intended to form a sweet shell over ice cream. Happily, it makes a hard shell on anything cold,” S ‘n M says.
“It is especially hard to remove if it hardens on glass. How about putting some Magic Shell on your mark’s cars windshield or on his home picture windows? If you leave it on half an hour, it’s a bitch to get off and overnight, it’s almost impossible to remove.”
“Once a really stupid mark thought he’d try to be smart, and he turned on his defroster to melt the magic shell off his windshield. All the melted goop ran down into his engine through the air vent on the hood, screwing him even more. I loved it.”
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