Suddenly, the doors of the supermarket swing open (well, actually, they slide open... slowly) and the entrance is filled with fog.

When it clears, Centurian, Fused, Hybrid, Registered Member 552, SpandexMonkeyMan, Stupid Dogg, The Time Trust, and Wednesday are all standing in their triumphant, heroic poses.

SpandexMonkeyMan: Are you sure we have to do this?

Stupid Dogg: It's the world famous JLR pose, man! We have to make a triumphant entrance.

SpandexMonkeyMan: I feel stupid.

Registered Member 552: I kinda like it.

SpandexMonkeyMan: Why am I not surprised?

Centurian: How long do we have to hold this, TTT?

The Time Trust: We're slotted for another forty-five seconds of posing, followed by two minutes of shopping, and two minutes in the line. If we keep on task, we should be back to the barn on schedule.

SpandexMonkeyMan: This is stupid.

SpandexMonkeyMan relaxes his pose.

Wednesday: Wait a second. We don't just stop posing. This is the JLR!

Hybrid: Well, if he's not posing, I'm not posing.

Hybrid relaxes his pose too.

Wednesday: Whose post do you think this is?

One after another, the JLR stop posing.

Wednesday [relaxing his pose too]: Whatever. To the salsa!

In form rarely seen outside superhero comic books, television shows, movies, and round-robin internet fiction, the JLR jump over cashiers, dodge carts, circumvent pram pushing mothers, and cause general confusion throughout the store in their search for the salsa aisle.

Stupid Dogg: Aisle three!

Every member reaches aisle three at the same time, resulting in a heroic wave of... heroes down the lane.

Stupd Dogg: Oh no!

Fused: The salsa's gone!

The Time Trust: This can't be right.

Centurian: What do you mean?

The Time Trust: My databanks show that there should be one can of salsa left at 8:44 a.m.

Centurian: But it's 8:45.

The Time Trust: Ummm... it is ?

Fused: Dude, for a time travelling robot, you really ^$#@!*& suck at that.

The Time Trust: I'm not a robot. I'm an--

Stupid Dogg [pointing down the aisle]: Look!

The JLR all eye a little old lady toddling down the aisle with the last can of spicy salsa.

Wednesday: Fused?

Fused: 175 decibels should about do it.

Wednesday: Good. Take her down, soldier.

Hybrid: Wait a second, you can't do that!

Wednesday: He's right, you might crack the salsa jar. Bump it down to 150.

Fused: Right!

Hybrid: No, I mean she's a little old lady, for Heaven's sake!

Wednesday: Right... an old lady, innocent. Yes.....

The Time Trust: We have to go.

Registered Member 552: But it was spicy .

The Time Trust: The schedule, man!

SpandexMonkeyMan [placing a comforting hand on Registered Member's shoulder]: We'll be back. I promise.

The JLR make an un-triumphant exit, but it isn't over. Though they may have lost the battle, they have not lost the war.

To be continued...