Fear gripped Elmwood Heights residents this week as local Kroger stocked its shelves with an alarming amount of kale chips and kombucha. This blatant preparation for the impending "Snowpocalypse" has triggered anxieties and sparked heated debates about gluten-free survival strategies.
"I saw pallets of kale chips, folks! Pallets!" exclaimed Mildred Butterton, clutching her reusable tote bag. "Are they expecting us to subsist on crunchy leaves when the blizzard hits? Where's the tofu?! The quinoa?!"
Panic spread like wildfire through the aisles. Shoppers clutched organic avocados and chia seed packets, their eyes wild with visions of snowbound streets and empty yogurt shelves. Meanwhile, the store manager, Harold Grump, calmly surveyed the chaos.
"Look, these people need something to crunch on while they're meditating through the apocalypse," Harold explained,wiping sweat from his brow. "Besides, kale chips are practically self-sustaining. Just spit on them and leave them under your Birkenstocks for a few days - boom, instant superfood garden."
Not everyone was convinced. Bob "Big Mac" Johnson, sporting a stained wife-beater and a six-pack of Budweiser,scoffed at the kale chip hype.
"Snowpocalypse, my rear end," Bob growled. "This ain't no ice age, it's just a bit of flurries. I'll be grilling steaks on my patio while you folks are gnawing on your green roof shingles."
The debate raged on, a microcosm of the larger cultural divide between the kombucha-sipping and the Budweiser-swigging. But one thing was clear: Elmwood Heights was bracing for the apocalypse, or at least a particularly inconvenient snowdrift, in the most on-brand way possible.
In a last-ditch effort to maintain some semblance of sanity, Harold made a plea to the panicked masses. "Folks," he boomed, "can we all agree on one thing? Please, for the love of all that is holy, no yoga poses in the parking lot during the blizzard. We can't have frozen downward-facing dogs blocking the snow plows."
Whether Elmwood Heights survives the "Snowpocalypse" on a diet of kale chips and existential dread remains to be seen.But one thing is certain: if the world goes under, it will be wearing Lululemon and smelling vaguely of fermented tea.
