Mr. Samoa versus the Entitlement Whores, for the deodorant

Tonight, Mr. Samoa slew the wild hordes of stupid people, to win a stick of deodorant for his fair lady.

So, basically I needed some deodorant. Blocking the aisle, and I mean the entire deodorant aisle, was this family. Parents about our age, utterly oblivious, and these two hyperactive kids about 7-8 who were running up and down the aisle, shrieking at the top of their lungs, and grabbing at everything in sight.

No matter, we thought. We'll just go get this other item, and come back, and they'll be gone. We did. They were still there. "No matter," I said. "Let's get this other thing." Come back, still there. So, we went and got an item on the other side of the store. We came back and they were STILL THERE! Parents still staring bovinely at the Degree, kids still doing their best Taz imitations.

Mr. Samoa knew he had to act. He set his jaw firmly, a steely glare in his eye. "Wait here," he said. "I'm going in." Like a medieval maiden awaiting the return of her knight from battle, I hung out by the body wash while he grasped his trusty shopping cart by the handle and charged the ravening masses. Kids and parents scattered right and left as he bore down upon his target, the Secret Platinum section.

Presently he returned, triumphant, brandishing a tube of English Garden scent. Miraculously, it did dawn on the parents in the wake of Sir Samoa of Antiperspirant that they were blocking the aisle, and they moved on.

My hero!!!