After lunch today, I suddenly had a great idea: The Lhikevikk Cactus Factory. It would sell artificial cacti for only $499.99 an ounce. It would be a small brick building, utterly featureless save for a small glass door. Inside would be a dark space, lit only by the light through the door, containing nothing but a small hatch on the floor. Customers would open the hatch and climb down a swimming pool-type ladder into a brightly lit underground chamber.

This is the exciting part. The chamber would be huge, about the size of your average Wal-Mart. But it would have no furniture whatsoever. The walls, floor and ceiling would all be white, the whitest white you could ever imagine. The walls would be covered in panels (white of course), which could be removed by requesting the assistance of the employees.

The employees would all wear black suits, the blackest black you could ever imagine. They would also wear white ties with bright pink polka dots. They would wear bridgeless sunglasses and would look exactly alike. As in, practically the same guy. They would walk up and down an invisible grid, horizontally and vertically but never diagonally. They would constantly walk at the exact same speed, too.

Should a customer speak to an employee, he would be completely unresponsive unless the customer is asking for a certain type of cactus. The employee would then walk speechlessly (they never, ever talk) over to a specific panel and remove it. Behind the panel would be a pipe about as long as the employee's arm. At the end of the pipe would be an artificial cactus illuminated by dim red lights. The employee would then hold the cactus until the customer leaves, following them until then (but staying on the invisible grid).

The store would have no background music. Instead, the loudspeakers would play the sound of a fly's buzzing to soothe the customers, who would be allowed to enter at any time, but could only leave between 2:00 AM and 5:00 AM.

The cashier would be a chihuahua, who would lick the customer's credit cards and transmit the data to the store's supercomputer using the EEG cap it would wear. Customers are discouraged from using cash or cheques, probably because the chihuahua would not be trained to handle such payments and would usually rip them to shreds. Since the employees never talk, this warning would be transmitted subliminally through the loudspeakers as they play the fly's buzzing.

Most customers would then go to the Sumiki Psychiatric Clinic due to the clinic's business partnership with the factory. This could be related to the owners of the factory being escapees from the clinic.

(So Sumiki, you were right about Pizza Hut being bad for my health; my mental health if not my physical health.)