ostraconophobia

Bob stepped out of his car, grocery bag in hand and faced the grocery store. He always went to the grocery store on Monday; it had been his routine for so long that he couldn't imagine going any other day.

And so he walked to the entrance, a crumpled list in his pocket. He'd been using the same list for years, and saw no need to change it.

The automatic doors opened with that same, underwhelming squeak and slide, and Bob was welcomed into the sedentary symphony of checkout machines and rolling grocery carts.

Only today, the store was different. The first thing that Bob noticed was the song 'Be My Lover' being blasted on the speakers so loud that he nearly had to cover his ears. The lights had been dimmed, and the employees were riding on roller skates throwing bananas and boxes of spaghetti.

Bob was so surprised that he nearly dropped his grocery bag. As one of the employees rolled by, Ol' Mildred she was called, Bob tried to ask what was happening.

"New Manager", was all the woman deigned to say.

Bob had no clue what to make of the situation. In all his years he'd never seen anything like it. And so he did the only sensible thing he could think of.

Five minutes later, Bob again returned from his car, mounted on a unicycle. He hadn't ridden one in years, but he still carried it in his car for good measure. Bob got very uncomfortable when he didn't fit in, and would do nearly anything to avoid feeling that way. And so, he mounted his unicycle, and immediately lost control.

Poor Bob flew through the condiment aisle, unable to steer or stop. He tried to scream for help, but the music was too loud. It wasn't until he crashed into the seafood counter that he finally stopped. And fell onto the lobster container.

Don't break, Bob silently pleaded with whatever god was listening. The issue was that Bob had ostraconophobia, the chronic fear of lobsters. On a good day, he wouldn't even go near the seafood section because he couldn't stand the lobster case. The way that they crawled around in that unnatural blue water, staring at the tall beings that had trapped them there with beady, vengeful eyes.

Bob tried to move, but he had gone into shock.

The lobsters. The lobsters were so close. He could see them. Hear them. Feel them.

"Everything okay there?" Someone asked.

Bob looked up. Square into the beady eyes of a giant lobster. And he screamed. Screamed until his throat burned.

The giant lobster held out a claw and Bob leapt up and tried to run. But he tripped on his fallen unicycle and toppled over. And the giant lobster...it was going to kill him. Bob was sure of it. And so he grabbed the only weapon he could find. A giant dead fish that lay in the crushed ice of the seafood counter. And he struck the lobster.

"Hey!" The lobster said.

Bob didn't care.

He struck again and again, beating the lobster with that fish until the lobster was limp on the floor. And then the lobster's head fell off.

Not the lobster's head, Bob realized, but the head of a costume.

What had he done?

Bod stood there, still holding the fish, and stared down at the limp figure. And the music still blasted.

"Mike!" Someone exclaimed.

"What were you doing?" A voice said somewhere."That was the new manager!"