Grocery clerk: Care for a lemon bar?
Woman: Oh, sure. Thank you.
Grocery clerk: Good, huh?
Woman: Very good.
Grocery clerk: Glad to hear it. Thanks for stopping by. You, sir, care for a lemon bar?
James Harrison: What are these?
Grocery clerk: Lemon bars. Little lemon pastries. From this new organic line that we carry. Go ahead and try one.
James Harrison: [Picks one up and takes a bite] That’s not bad. So what’s this? Sample stand? Meaning anybody can come up and try these?
Grocery clerk: Yes, of course they can.
James Harrison: [Spits mouthful of lemon bar at woman] ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME, GROCERY BITCH!? YOU MEAN, IF THEY WANTED, THE ARIZONA CARDINALS COULD JUST WALK UP HERE AND TRY THESE LEMON BARS!?
Grocery clerk: [Wipes lemon bar off face] They’re free samples. So, yes, the Arizona Cardinals could have some if they wanted.
James Harrison: [Flips over sample table and sucker punches woman in the kidney] Bullshit. Why should I have this food if any fucking punk could just waltz up in here and have their way with this shit? Like it’s the town bike or something. Where’s the loyalty? You should’ve made these lemon bars with the express purpose of my consumption. Set out and said to yourself, “I need to make some lemon bars for James Harrison.” And then you set up this stand and tell anybody who passes by, “Sorry, these lemon bars aren’t for you, unless you’re James Harrison. And if you are James Harrison, it don’t matter if you just won the Super Bowl or not. You still get a lemon bar.” Make all that plain from Jump Street. Me? I don’t put any food in me that’s not loyal food. Could be toxic sabotaging food agents swarming through my body, diving at my cells’ knees and shit.
[Walks up grocery aisle]
All around me, disloyal food. Sitting here, waiting to be consumed by just anyone, whether they win the Super Bowl or not. Look at this box of Honey Smacks.
Man, you fucking whore frog. Any clown can come up in here and get a taste, huh? Don’t need to know where that spoon has been. Makes me wanna make you puke blood. This open attitude on food might be cool for somma y’all suckers. Well y’all can keep that shit.
[Punches hole straight through box]
Busted ass anybody food. I need to see meals that have demonstrated a solid commitment to me from the start. Not some snack that come up on me, see me shine, see me winning on the big stage and then decide, “Hey, maybe this Super Bowl winning linebacker can cram me down his gullet.” Fuck that. Where’s the trust?
SEE, THIS IS WHAT THE FUCK I’M TALKING ABOUT
Finally, someone who knows where I’m coming from. Who been there through the struggle. True food.
[Takes entire inventory]
Cashier: Hello, sir. Find everything all right?
James Harrison: [Slams down box of bars] Yeah.
[Cashier rings up product while another another person gets in line behind Harrison]
James Harrison: [Whips around] Who are you?
Customer: Huh? I’m in line.
James Harrison: [Back to cashier] You gonna help this guy?
Cashier: After I’m done with you, of course.
James Harrison: [Throws cashier to the ground and knees her in the back of the head] Don’t nobody know about loyalty in this world.