A War Brews in Chicago

The north side of Chicago has been thrust under the oppressive shadow of fear as two sides in a newly spawned battle of the wills declare war on each other. Pat Hayden, everyone's favorite resident of Wolcott Ave. has now been verbally assulted (or at least confused) by the clerk of the 7-11 on nearby Foster Ave.

The first incident occured but a few weeks ago, when Pat entered the store to buy a six pack of beer and told the clerk he did not need a bag. Being a man of severe morals and very little english speaking talent, the man reportedly began yelling at Pat for up to five minutes concerning the need for the bag and how it is his duty to see to it that all beer leaving his store is concealed from the community.

This display of uncomfort was followed up less than 24 hours ago when Pat and his good looking friend Dave entered the 7-11 to buy some soda and snacks. Pat purchased a DMD (Diet Mountain Dew for those of you not endoctrinated to the Hayden lingo) and a Reese's Cup. Once again strangeness ensued, with the clerk picking up the soda and asking "Oh, you like diet?" to which Pat replied "Yes.." already clearly weary of strange verbal assult potential. The clerk then picked up the Reese's Cup and said something else about the word "diet" and then begain laughing maniacally. It can be assumed the joke was somewhere in the fact that it was not a diet peanut butter cup. After a few moments of dumbfounded stares David saw that the only way they were going to get out there alive was if someone acknowledged that man's "joke". So the weird 7-11 clerk and David laughed at Pat for a bit and everyone went home alive.

Next time the strikingly handsome Dave may not be present to defuse the situation with obviously mocking (to all but 7-11 clerks) fake enjoyment of the clerk's ramblings, and officals are concerned that if Pat and that guy ever end up in an enclosed space together the entire city of Chicago may become uncomfortable.

Luckily, Pat has declared a "Perminant Boycott!" of the 7-11 location, meaning that unless he really needs some DMD we should all be okay. For now the city can only hold it's breath and hope; hope that Pat's cube of DMD lasts until his next trip to Dominck's.