The Epic of the Blubber Queen of Costco
Prologue: The Warehouse of Destiny
Beyond the strip malls and highways, where neon signs flicker and parking lots stretch to the horizon, there stands a fortress like no other: Costco. Its towers of paper towels gleam like ivory spires, its freezers roar like dragons, and its food court sings hymns of $1.50 hot dogs. For generations, it lay unclaimed — a kingdom without a ruler. Until one Tuesday afternoon, destiny arrived pushing a shopping cart.
Chapter I: The Coronation in Aisle Seven
Lois Griffin entered Costco not seeking power, but bargains. Weary from family chaos and coupon-clipping, she wandered the fluorescent-lit halls. At Aisle Seven, inspiration struck. She climbed the mighty stacks of bulk paper towels, raised a turkey baster like a scepter, and proclaimed: “I claim this warehouse in the name of bargains eternal!”
The shoppers froze. Forklift engines hummed in reverence. And one by one, customers bowed. In that moment, Lois became the Blubber Queen of Costco.
Chapter II: The Throne of Bulk Soda
A throne was built for the Queen — not of gold or iron, but of stacked soda packs, wrapped in shrink-wrap, and crowned with frozen chicken nuggets. From this seat of power she ruled. Forklift Knights clad in neon safety vests patrolled the aisles. Sample Maidens presented trays of dumplings, pizza bagels, and tiny cups of smoothie. The Court Jester of the Food Court juggled churros while singing karaoke.
The Queen decreed new laws: all members would share in the bounty of free samples, and no soul would leave without a slice of $4.99 pizza.
Chapter III: The Battle of the Free Samples
Peace held — until the day the dumplings ran low. Rival shoppers clashed over the last tray, carts colliding, teriyaki scent thick in the air. The warehouse trembled with chaos.
From her soda-throne, the Queen rose and bellowed: “ENOUGH! There shall be no war in my Costco!”
With a wave of her turkey-baster scepter, the Forklift Knights advanced, their horns beeping in unison. Order was restored, and the Queen’s legend grew.
Chapter IV: The Festival of Hot Dogs
To celebrate victory, the Queen commanded the Festival of Hot Dogs. From the food court poured an endless river of hot dog-and-soda combos, their price held at the sacred $1.50. The people feasted, children danced with churros, and knights jousted with carts in the parking lot.
At the heart of the festival sat the Queen, radiant in pink spandex, laughing as the warehouse echoed with joy.
Chapter V: The Trial of Sam’s Club
But across the land, rivals stirred. Sam’s Club, envious of Costco’s glory, sent spies with cheap knockoff pizza and imitation sodas. Outrage filled the aisles.
“These pretenders dare undercut our prices?” thundered the Queen. “Then let it be known — Costco bows to none!”
The Forklift Knights prepared for war. Sample Maidens stitched banners from cereal boxes. Even the Court Jester sharpened churros into spears. The Trial of Sam’s Club had begun.
Chapter VI: The Queen’s Rest
Years passed. The Queen’s legend grew larger than the warehouse itself. At last, she returned to where it all began — Aisle Seven. She climbed once more upon the mountain of paper towels, her old pink spandex stretched across the wall like a royal banner, a relic of her glorious reign. Now she herself wore majestic purple, the true color of everlasting royalty.
Before her knelt a crowd of faithful shoppers. Children clutched churros, elders bowed, and even the Forklift Knights beeped in reverence. From her Throne of Soda, she raised her turkey-baster scepter and began to tell the story of her rise: the Coronation in Aisle Seven, the Battle of the Free Samples, the Festival of Hot Dogs, and the Trial of Sam’s Club. Her voice rolled across the warehouse like the hum of freezer fans, deep and resonant, every word painting history upon the very aisles.
When the tale was done, the Queen declared: “Kingdoms may fall, coupons may expire, but Costco’s hot dogs shall always remain $1.50.”