On a damp and stormy weekend where the air is thick like a hot velvet blanket on your lungs and you know the clouds might open up soon but it won't do a damn thing to cool you down because it will be like stepping out of a lukewarm shower into a bucket of sweat, you realize Mother Nature doesn't give a shit if you have to run errands so you head to Duff Mall to bathe in the sweet and arid AC and maybe even treat yourself to a combo with French fries to soothe your hangover, but boy, did you make a terrible mistake because your optimism is mercilessly crushed as you discover that the power is out in half the mall (the good half), including the food court (no, there will be no French fries), and the anxious weekend shoppers are on the brink of retail anarchy and the only escape is into Walmart or outside to the torrential thunder storm so you opt for a subpar chicken wrap from the only kiosk with power and as you eat it in an area of the food court that's been roped off for construction, water drips on your head from the glass ceiling and if you knew this was how it was gonna end for you, you would have just stayed in your sweat bucket called home.