If there is one thing that Hollywood has taught us, it is that crows are sneaky, dirty little creatures that, on occasion, enjoy tearing out people’s eyes while they are still alive.
Which is why, as a general rule, I try to avoid shopping at Wal-Mart after nightfall.
I do not trust those Wal-Mart crows, and they know damn well why.
As the sun sets, a very strange phenomenon occurs in Walker County. For reasons unknown, every crow in East Texas becomes possessed with evil and is mysteriously drawn to the Wal-Mart Supercenter in Huntsville, Texas, where they shriek incessantly, poop on customers and perform tactical dive-bombs on the elderly.
The birds (while I am not sure exactly how many crows are out there, my scientific guess would have to be around 14 million on any given evening) fill the trees, land on car tops and wait patiently for dropped food.
Crows are often featured in mythology as omens of doom or death because of their upsetting calls and tendency to eat carcasses of dead animals. They are also commonly thought to circle above scenes of death such as battles.
It’s like they’re anticipating the return of the devil.
I have nothing against Wal-Mart; I always appreciate their always-low prices. Always. But the birds give me the creeps. There is something a little scary about guiding a busted shopping cart full of bread and various meats through a shadowy parking lot while being surveyed by hundreds of demonic birds.
If you believe my fears are unwarranted, consider this: crows are attracted to small, shiny objects and will eat just about anything. One of those things is going to fly away with some poor woman’s baby someday. Then what’s going to happen?
Wal-Mart doesn’t sell babies.