Dollar Funeral

Across this glowing nation, the chain dollar stores breed like rabid jackrabbits on a hallucinogenic bender. Brace yourselves, my compatriots, for our beloved community is about to be showered with the blessings of their expired provisions and a cacophony of shoddy plastic trinkets. In our quaint little hamlet we currently boast two dollar store outposts, and rumor has it, two more are emerging from the womb of construction.

These voracious chains have set their sights on the impoverished, establishing themselves as the so-called saviors of the destitute. They parade as the neighborhood's "grocer," but in reality, they offer an assortment of the cheapest, most processed, and artificially preserved sustenance that a meager sum can procure.

In this dystopian reality, instead of consigning rejected goods to the abyss of landfills, the upper-class giants like Wal-Mart and Safeway hawk their discarded wares at bulk discounts to these dollar store fiends. In turn, these mercenary marts grace our community with the gift of expired, recalled, and tainted provisions that would otherwise meet their demise.

As if their devotion to serving preservatives weren't enough, these establishments also extend the noble hand of employment to our desperate neighbors who scrape to earn a measly $12 per hour, while overseeing operations for a company with the grisliest safety record and a workforce murder rate that outstrips any other minimum wage job.

Alas, dear Mom and Pop, helpless in the face of the dollar store juggernaut, are forced to shutter their humble enterprises, taking up residence in the very dollar store they were unable to combat, where they serve their twilight years until death's sweet release.

The dollar store, you see, harbors no commitment to our community. Once you exchange your hard-earned dollar with "The General," it embarks on a one-way journey to corporate realms, stashed away in a cavernous vault far, far removed from our little township, never to grace us again.

But, when you rally behind a local merchant, they, in turn, carry your dollar to another local vendor, and the chain goes on. A hundred dollars can circle through our community, providing continuous nourishment, but when we succumb to the corporate behemoths that descend upon us, our financial resources vanish in a solitary exhalation.

These purveyors of cut-rate refuse peddle poison to our community and leave nothing but a desolate wasteland in their wake. They are here to seize all they can grasp, and you, my friends, will partake in their offerings simply because you believe it's all your wallet can withstand.