The gal standing in the checkout line was wearing a tight, low-cut jean skirt that showed both her substantial muffin top, and the back of her lacy red XXL thong. Well, it could have been regular-sized underwear, but I suspected a thong. Her shopping cart was filled with cheap kids' clothes, and every type of synthetic food imaginable.
The little boy in her cart was screaming with anger, tears running down his face. He was clutching an action figure in his grubby little hands and blowing snot all over it while he wailed like a fire engine.
The gal's face was turning a stony pink-red while the kid's volume continued to climb. She was hissing at the boy, "Shut up. Shut up RIGHT NOW." The kid's face began to turn purple with the effort of maintaining the howl.
A fat arm snaked out and slapped him in the face, momentarily interrupting the kid. He gulped, shocked, then screwed up his face to start again. Another slap, accompanied by loose flapping arm flab.
"You CAN'T HAVE IT, you little shit! You wanna be gay like your dad? Just keep it up!"
More howls. The arm lifted up for another swing.
I couldn't look away.