I went out today expecting to be home in an hour. But I went out with Georg, so I should've known better. This is the story of a woman trapped at a Wal-mart.
For context:it is 5:06 pm as I begin writing this. Times before that are simply guesses. 

12:00pm: mom has promised to take me and Cassowary to Walmart to get some simple stuff today.

3:00pm: We have actually left for the Walmart.

3:15pm: we first stop at the music store to look at bass amps Cassowary keeps saying they don't want.

3:45pm: We have (finally, after much pain) left the music store. Georg screams "fuck you, fuck you, fuck you" to no one in particular. When questioned, she plays this off as a joke. We set off to the Walmart. She questions us on why we constantly shoot down her ideas. Is it because we don't like her? Cassowary asserts that this is not the case. I posit that it's simply because she has so many bad ideas. Believe me, this is warranted.

4:05pm: we arrive at the Walmart. We split up quickly. Me and Cassowary getting posters, her getting clothes.

4:20pm: She finds us, and gives me shirts I don't want. She tells us she will be in paints. This is the last time we see her.

4:30pm: having finished our shopping, we set off for paints to go find her. We're having trouble finding it.

4:35pm: we find paints, but she's not there.

4:45pm: after a sweep of most of the store, Cassowary has the idea that maybe we have the wrong paints. They ask an employee, but to no avail. 

5:00pm: After more searching, we can't find her. We head out to the car to plan our next move.

5:05pm: Cassowary goes in to search further.

5:15pm: Cassowary gives up and comes back to the car. We're reduced to pointing out the many flaws with the car.

5:20pm: Many theories are brought up. She stole something and is in loss prevention, she didn't notice anything was wrong and was still looking at paints, etc. It's resolved that I will go back in at 6, and if that search fails we'll call grandpa.

5:25pm: She comes back to the car with a thundering smash as she rams a shopping cart into the car. She is, as Cassowary predicted, blaming it on us. She starts yelling and crying about how we hate her and throwing a pity party for herself. We start going home. We've more or less caught up to when I am (5:29), so if there's any more to this it'll be recording the random shit she yells about.

5:30pm: She talks of giving up, whatever that means, and says "you don't care, why am I still talking". The first prescient observation she's made all day.

5:31pm: She accuses us of being spiteful. She still appears to be under the impression that we didn't look that hard.

5:34pm: I check what we received to realize she eschewed half of the things I put in in favor of no less than 15 more bottles of acrylic paint, presumably to raise her total from 342 to 357.

5:35pm: we arrive home. I fit in a jab about her persecution complex before leaving the car.

5:38pm: the ordeal for me is reduced to hearing her incomprehensible yelling from her room. This is presumably the end.