Obviously by the title I can safely say that this is a chapter in which our intrepid Sitcom hero is about to discover why he should never, never, NEVER, get in-between a Slayer and her shopping.
Buffy was in a foul mood – a foul mood due in part to the very not-nice things she was thinking concerning a certain young African-American sales clerk who’d been helping her out.
How he ever got hired in a store as fancy as this one was the question of the day. Buffy had seen that only two sales clerks were on duty at the time – and had intended to avoid the one with the rolled up pants higher than they should be, because he obviously was not fashion conscious.
Unfortunately her first choice vanished into the store room leaving Buffy alone with the high-pitched nerd. And he was definitely the very stereotype of what a nerd should be – at least if you’d ever watched the Revenge of the Nerds movies.
It had all started innocently enough with her asking about some shoes. With a big smile he’d gotten her foot measurements and then rushed into the backroom – he came out with a pile of boxes so high he obviously couldn’t see.
Then when he tried to help her get the shoe on they discovered a rather curious thing about shoes – it helped to put the left shoe on the left foot rather than the right.
Buffy had tore into him verbally for that one – considering how intelligent he seemed to be it couldn’t possibly be that he was that stupid.
With a hurt look on his face he took a step back from her so she could put her shoes on herself – this resulted in the pyramid of boxes he’d carried out to topple over behind him hitting one of the clothes racks where they kept the tops. Shirts and other things went clattering to the floor.
This had the unusual and unwanted effect of a live game of dominoes. One by one clothes racks toppled to the floor – and it didn’t stop there – when one of the last racks standing toppled over it slammed into the wall of shelves lining one side of the store.
You can guess what happened then. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t been standing – or in Buffy’s case – sitting near the shelves.
Buffy was now buried in a mound of shoes – all of them from the shelves – and she couldn’t find her purse either.
The sales clerk took one look at the mess – another longer look at the glare of death being aimed at him from the customer – and he uttered a phrase that Buffy never wanted to hear in her life again.
“Did I do that?” Steven Q. Urkel asked with a nervous smile.The End Third Time