It’s getting more and more difficult to speak truth to power these days, especially when it comes to the judiciary branch of our federal government. With controversial recent decisions such as overturning Roe V. Wade, agreeing to self-police against the rampant corruption in their ranks, and granting presidents partial immunity to prosecution, it’s natural to want to give the Supreme Court justices a piece of your mind. Someone ought to tell these archaic bible thumbing hypocrites that they are civil servants who work FOR us, not creepy Eye’s Wide Shut-esque dictators. But how? The answer is to hit them where they live—on vacation.
In such infuriating times, it’s important to remember that your goal is to air your grievances to Kavanaugh, Alito, and Thomas’s smug, repugnant faces, not to some poor page who just wants to pad a resume. Unfortunately, there’s only one way to get face to face with these fuckers—positioning yourself to “serve” them. Here are some tips for getting a job at one of the world’s most elite vacation resorts, and then throwing that job away for one sweet cathartic outburst into the face of a monster.
Become a master masseuse
Years of study and work to master an occupation seems like a pretty big hoop to jump through just to voice your opinion to a government employee, but if American democracy worked you wouldn’t need to infiltrate a beach resort just to voice your opinion in the first place.
Witness a horrific crime perpetrated by a trust funder and say nothing
Discretion is the lifeblood of the high-end service industry. You need these assholes to think you’re willing to play ball. Remember, it’s for the greater good.
Learn to regulate your body temperature to become a more ideal human sushi plate
When you’ve worked in the criminal justice system as long as Clarence Thomas you know that sushi is best served on a naked human body of 99.4 degrees, not the standard 98.6. Through meditation, yoga, and breathing exercises you can learn to dial in your body’s core temperature making you a valuable asset in the industry.
Link your Fetlife to your LinkedIn profile and list “Exploitation” as one of your kinks
All vacation resorts need staff members who are okay with being surrounded by obnoxious amounts of wealth while working for next to nothing, but at the luxury-class level, complacency is not enough. They’re on the lookout for workers who NEED economic disparity to fulfill a complicated psycho-sexual urge. Sure, on paper, your job is just folding towels, but Judge Alito might want you to pretend to be his “nephew” for an hour and he certainly doesn’t want to be up-charged for it.
Get trafficked
It’s the most dangerous, least savory route to employment at a resort, but it’s your best shot at getting face time with Clarence Thomas at, shall we say, his most vulnerable.
It’s just a house. Unless the market in question is some neighborhood-wide estate sale where your former AP English teacher just so happens to sell her garden squash as well, catching a glimpse of the eponymous residence from “Welcome to Dead House” is very unlikely. Next.
“Deep Trouble” is just about the only place you’d have to be in to see a hammerhead shark at an outdoor grocery store. There is an argument to be made for seaside markets and local fisheries that sharks might regularly visit, but seeing as how this is number 14, this argument is faulty. The term “monster” is also a pretty loose description for a totally average shark, so this one is at a 10-15% likelihood, max.
Judging by the radical, hot pink lair that the titular Masked Mutant jumps out from in “Attack of the Mutant,” it’s safe to assume he doesn’t get out that often. Granted, when he’s not plotting some dastardly scheme in that villainous castle he’s probably present at every comic con and Smash Bros. tournament in the nearby area. As a result of this, the chances of catching him browsing the heirloom tomatoes at the nearby organic table are slim to none.
Okay, it is pretty farfetched to expect to see regular-teenager-turned-bee Gary Lutz buzzing around the honey table at city produce sales. But it’s not impossible, right? There are always a few stray insects flying around the fruits, and those beekeepers love to brag about their “totally eco-friendly beehomes” and “organic honeycomb.” Who’s to say one of those pesky bugs isn’t a clean-cut tween whose body swap wish went horribly wrong? The jury’s still out on this one.
This one is contingent on whether or not pets are allowed at your local farmstand. When they are, you’re typically bombarded by some vicious German Shepherd owned by a dawdling middle-aged couple rather than some yapping pooch like “The Barking Ghost.” Either way you are usually at the receiving end of a string of woofs and snarls as you try to politely scooch out of the way towards the cartons of strawberries.
With such an esteemed title, the cover creature of “A Night at Terror Tower” doesn’t frequent farmers markets all that often. Busy sharpening his gnarly ax and scaring the local youth with his horrendous posture, there is no way this guy carves a lot of time out for buying local. In spite of this, you might spot him under that tent with all the bearded dudes who try to pawn off their homemade leather goods and jerky. This hooded beefcake would for sure add some dried teriyaki venison to his pre-workout meal routine.
This one has a couple of demerits right off the bat. On top of being regionally locked to the Los Angeles area (and technically Alaska if you’re a nerd and read the book), this odious yeti might not even fit underneath the awnings of the produce stand. Besides all of that, this guy is a bimonthly regular at farmers markets for sure. Any local fruit this big lug picks out is going straight to his ice cavern for smoothie prep.
There’s roughly a 50/50 chance “The Haunted Mask” makes an appearance while you browse the local grocery. Admittedly, it is rare to see one of these outside of Halloween, and worn by someone other than a snotty elementary schooler for that matter. Then again, even monstrous, living faces need their fruits and veggies to stay healthy and stave off further decay. Don’t pry the wearers of the haunted masks too much though. Some shoppers just straight up look like that.
This might be a bit of a cheat, but you can spot Stine’s classic “Monster Blood” at any farmers market if you look hard enough. That natural herbal jam that costs $23? Monster blood. The bulk laundry detergent sold by that elderly lady who smells faintly of mothballs? Also monster blood. If you frequent a really hip produce shop with kombucha vendors, you can take a wild guess as to what those bacteria are really swimming around in.
On the occasion that produce vendors peddle their dusty antiques as well, “The Cuckoo Clock of Doom” can be pretty easy to point out. Unfortunately, its awesome powers of time reversal are most definitely broken if it’s being half heartedly sold amidst old wooden crates and collector’s plates. If you’re looking to be jumpscared by a wooden bird and spill asparagus everywhere while making a fool of yourself, be sure to catch it at the top of the hour.
The face of the Goosebumps series himself has seen his fair share of supporting local greengrocery. Slappy’s the kind of consumer to hop on the market craze for a while, posting his favorite local veggies and maple syrups on his socials. Maybe he checks into the farmstand every once and a while, but not since he’s hit the major leagues. Nowadays, he buys his groceries via delivery apps since he’s “too busy drafting his new memoir.” Sure thing buddy.
The only real “Curse of Camp Cold Lake” is the inundation of guys with this haircut who flood the local farmstand. They might not always be shopping around at the market, but everyone knows at least one Camp Cold Lake Ghost. They’re the ones whose contribution to the office holiday gift exchange is goat milk soap that you will never use because you can’t resist the temptations of Bath & Body Works’ semi-annual sale. 60-70% chance of running into one of these middle-parted fiends.
Coincidentally enough, “Calling All Creeps!” doubles as an excellent way to grab the attention of a majority of people who shop at produce markets. Of course these tools are still using a damn telephone booth like it’s 1996. If you take this out of the equation and instead swap their antiquated communication methods for various facial piercings, tattoos, and a tote bag with a succulent on it, then you’ve got roughly two-thirds of the farmers market clientele.
When writing “The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight,” Mr. Stine clearly didn’t take into consideration what most scarecrows get up to around 10 a.m. on a Saturday. With those scrappy, disheveled clothes and gardener’s hats, these otherwise inanimate strawmen fit right in with the market scene, and can be the most tolerable people to deal with. That much time in the field has to mean this guy is pretty knowledgeable, he’s surrounded by corn for cryin’ out loud!
There is at least one Counselor Buddy at every farmers market. This is an indisputable fact. Even more horrifying, it is guaranteed that the Buddy present during your visit will make some dull vegetable pun or comment about your groceries. Everything from the baseball cap, tucked in t-shirt, and those deprived, manic eyes just scream “agriculturist”. No longer just “The Horror At Camp Jellyjam”, this asshole hawks his pickled vegetables with that same nightmarish grin everywhere.
