Wiffle mall justice.

Have you thought what you would do if you could live a single day without consequences? Yesterday I finally found my own personal answer to this question. A little bit about me,
I absolutely hate the goddamned mall. With every fiber of my being and bit of my soul, it has just about very thing in life that I dislike rolled into one package. And every great once in a while, I am forced to go there.
For starters, the noise, from every direction, on all levels there are inescapable sounds of stupidity. From complaining children to teenagers squealing they're gossip at one another. Music of every genre but a good one blasted over loud speakers and out of every shop, the sounds of a million heels clicking away at your sanity as the ladies shuffle to and fro. looking for the perfect outfit to complete themselves as a person, announcements, food court order calls, and if your extremely fortunate, a baby with enough insight at it's surroundings to become terrified and scream till its vocal chords are hoarse. Then the sales representatives really start to do there part. stall venders with unbrushed teeth attempting to strong arm you into buying all natural make up, a guy who can't tuck a dress shirt in asking you what your cell phones data plan and roaming charges cost you. Maybe you'll get lucky the next time you want to buy a pair of jeans, and have the shirt that the manikin in the front window is wearing recommended.
On top of these atrocities, are the two issues that really truly make a mall worth hating. Security guards that don't know where anything but victorias secret is. And above all an issue which I'm sure I'll address in the future as well. people who walk on the wrong side of the isle. I swear to saint mother fucking tharisa I cannot stand it when people walk into opposing traffic. It's not that they slow me down, it's that they slow everybody down, the sheer selfishness it takes to be that much if a dick is beyond my comprehension.
So the answer to my consequence free day question for me. Is I would stalk through the shopping malls of America with a wiffle ball bat, and pent up aggression and smack the living shit out of every thing I disliked. Why not a real bat or something more dangerous you might ask. I'll tell you why, I've been smacked by one before, it hurts like the sound of an angry bitches voice that doesn't know what the he'll she's talking about, and leaves a huge mark. And that's what you deserve If your one of the people I described, except for the baby. You deserve some sharp annoying pain, and you ought to be marked in a way the good people of America can see you coming so they don't have to deal with your retarded behavior.