When we last left the Veggie Avenger, our favorite vegetarian activist was shamelessly accosting meat-eaters in his jobs as an elevator operator and waiter. Unfortunately, those jobs didn't last long. Employers, it seems, were quick to realize that a tactless vegetarian superhero was not their ideal choice in interacting with the public. Nevertheless, the Veggie Avenger remains undaunted. "Hey," he says with a shrug, "why be subtle if you know you're right?" Yes, it's clear that this is a man of principle—at least until his unemployment checks run out.
The Veggie Avenger has been spending his free time (actually, all of his time is free time) pasting nasty stickers on the meat packages at some of Big City's supermarkets. The stickers have sayings on them like: "My name was Elsie, and I had brown eyes," and "Beef: Real Food for Morons." The Veggie Avenger is very proud of himself for being so clever. Suddenly, he senses someone behind him. He turns around to see a butcher the size of Delaware, with arms like fir trees.
Butcher: So, you're the guy who's been treading on our tenderloin!
Veggie Avenger [articulate, as usual]: Who, me??
The butcher grabs our hero's throat with a blood-stained hand and starts pulling him down the aisle. There's the sound of Converse All-Stars squeaking as they drag along the linoleum floor.
Butcher: I've got a meat saw in the back I want you to get acquainted with.
Veggie Avenger [unable to breath]: Arrghh!
Just then a little old lady shopper whacks the butcher in the ribs with her cane.
Little Old Lady: Hey fatso, what are you doing with the geek?
Butcher: I'm going to soak him in meat tenderizer 'til he dissolves.
Veggie Avenger: Arrghh!
By this time several shoppers have gathered around to watch the commotion. The store manager comes over to intervene.
Store Manager: What's going on?
Little Old Lady [pointing to the butcher]: Arnold Schwarzenegger here is trying to deep-six this pathetic hippie.
Butcher: He's the one who's been putting the stickers on our meat. I'm going to lock him up in cold storage for a couple of days.
Veggie Avenger: Arrghh!
Manager: Hmm. Sounds like a violation of Federal product tampering laws to me. I'd better call the FBI.
Veggie Avenger [by this time turning blue, with his eyes bulging out]: Arrghh! Arrghh!
Little Old Lady: Let me take him home with me, boys. I'll straighten him out.
Manager: Lady, if you promise to keep him out of the store, he's yours.
Reluctantly, the butcher takes his hand off the Veggie Avenger's throat. Our hero, breathing again, knows he's won another battle. Air returns to his lungs. A confident look returns to his face, and he smirks at the butcher and store manager. He's just about to thank the little old lady when he feels her iron grip on his arm and the rap of her cane on his shins.
Little Old Lady: Now come along with me, sonny. I'm going to fix you a nice bowl of chicken soup.
Veggie Avenger: Arrghh!!!