I open a convenience store in Delaware but all of our shelves are too tall. No one can reach them without a ladder or help from a stocky young stock boy named Scott. We sell step stools, but they’re on the third shelf, which is roughly 20 feet in the air. I try to jimmy rig brooms with coat hangers, but the twine is on the 2nd level in Aisle Sleven. That’s another problem. The numbers of the aisles are all made up. Light bulbs and Snickers are on aisle Poonannynine. Customers begin to complain, and my suggestion box is on top of a paper shredder and doesn’t have a bottom to the box, so I can’t figure out what they’re complaining about. My head cashier has a baby there in the store, and the baby offers us all cigars. Before I can ask if the baby had a baby, we smoke, toasting the newborn and the sprinklers go off. Instead of water it’s Good n’ Plenty and I jokingly say “I’ve had good an plenty enough of these sprinklers. You know what I mean? Because of the candy? I’m referring to the candy that is raining down on us. It’s a play. A play on words. You know? Regarding the terrible licorice candy that is raining down on us from above like a sweet, sweet apocalypse.” One person laughs, but I find out he was thinking of a joke he heard yesterday about nuns on skateboards. Then I wake up.