I don't get it.

I've been living on the outskirts of this town for four decades and I never expected that all the convenience stores here had closed for good—all in one day.

Mrs. Perry told me after I came out from my hideout to replenish the supply. Apparently, I missed out on a lot of action last week. Some new guy swooped in. An angry and sadly, losing mob. His store is the only one available for us now. How did he not get beat up or thrown in jail?

Being vague and somehow nervous, Mrs. Perry then pinches my cheek. "Oh Jamie, I wish my skin was like yours. Smooth as a baby's butt!"

"Mrs. Perry, it comes with a price," I laugh.

"Bah! Immortality doesn't sound bad if you're wrinkling and ancient."

I snort and say, "I am ancient."

OW! She bonks my calf with her cane. "Physically, smartass!'

"More pressing matters, why don't you tell me about this monopoly man?"

"You're done with hero days," she mutters. "Remember, Jamie?"

Sighing, I watch the far bright-lit store. Too bright amidst cobalt dusk and empty streets. "I know." Gravel rocks crunch under my boots as I march toward the infamous property.

"Where are you going??" she shouts from behind.

"Buy a milk carton or two! Can't have my cereals dry!"

"Be careful, he's—!"

I whirl around, enough to catch her a glimpse of grimace before she sports her usual Perry smile.

"He's what?"

"Uhm... Naggy."

My eyebrows shoot up. Well, that's a first. "He didn't hike up any prices?"

"No no! Only... commentaries from him. He likes to observe what his customers are choosing."

This is going to be interesting. I thank her and continue my way.

Bells jingle as I enter. The store isn't too bad— Okay, it's a little shabby and the lighting should be slightly dimmed. My eyes look around and stop at the checkout counter, where someone standing behind it... is staring at me back.

Great. Just A-FUCKING great.

Harper. My longtime 'buddy'.

A buddy who I'd thrown off into the Grand Canyon cliff, who had my arms eaten by cannibals, who I buried under the scorching lava, who got me in trouble with cabaret slash gangster. That one was a horrible mess. Such a long history with this insufferable man, longer than my relationships with the past seventy lovers which frankly, is quite pathetic. I stopped my heroic acts and he stopped his villainous ones over time. I don't know why he did and I don't care.

We bumped into each other occasionally and unpleasantly until... Twenty years ago? Probably.

"Long time no see, traffic jam," he grits out.

I roll my eyes. "Great to see you, harpy."

"It's Discount Tuesday. Every item is twenty percent off."

"Brilliant deal."

"Oh I know."

A beat of silence as my scowl mirrors his.

"Here for the milk. Don't get too excited for the reunion."

Our little pissy stare-off holds long before he huffs and proceeds to count the cash in hand. I would've gone to the next town and bought milk there, rather than seeing his stupid face here. But I'm a lazy fucker.

I turn left and stride between rows of shelves, inspecting the items because I'm a little curious. I know his eyes are on me through the CCTVs; nevertheless, I pick up a raisin bran box, just to see if the price is hiked up.

"Gross. I thought you had better taste."

The speaker goes silent. Ah. This is what she warned me about. Refraining from sticking my tongue out at one of the cameras, I snatch the raisin bran out of spite.

"Check your right," the speaker blares again.

I do and there's— "A pack of pickled bananas?"

"It's my specialty. With the greatest recipe ever known to mankind."

Ignoring it and continuing my way to the milk shelves, I check them one by one... Found the one!

The speaker crackles up. "That milk will expire in two days."

"The expiry date—"

"Is a lie, Jam."

"I guess this one—"

"Not that one too. The brand company put mercury or some shit in there."

I'm this close to having a screaming match with the freaking speaker. "Stop fucking around, Harp."

The man himself rounds the corner and stands a few feet away. He has the gall to look bored! "I am not," Harper harps.

"Why do you even sell them?"

"When the town has only one store, people would buy anything."

Without much thought, I open a jug of milk and splash it at his face. His shock tames down my fury.

Shit.

I barely dodge—his nebulous projectiles as the whole row of shelves explode into chemical gasses, and I run through the aisles while he's chasing me down!

"I just want my GODDAMN MILK!"

His nebulae hit my shoulder and the gasses almost eat my arm away before my limbs light up with comets. I spin towards him and retaliate. My comets strike his head, propelling him back to an ice cream freezer.

While he sputters out ice flakes, I gather two salvaged jugs of milk among the mess, sprint to the counter, and slam my money down. I'm outta here!

Flailing around as I'm trying to get past the slippery floor, I throw a glance over my shoulder—

"You little thief!"

Next thing I know, Harper tackles me! We crash through the windows and land on the street outside. My arms are still clutching close to my jugs of milk when he tries to yank them away.

...That doesn't sound right.

With a screech, I say, "I already paid for them!"

"No, they're my items! I get to say whether you can buy them or not!"

"Is this about your bananas?"

"Bana...? No!"

"I'll throw in some cash for those dumb pickled bananas if you leave me alone!"

His face blotches with red and he's grabbing my collar. "THEY'RE NOT DUMB!"

"Denial."

With his nebulae clash with my comets on the desolated asphalt, we broke three centuries of unspoken truce.

How irksome.

¸.⋅⋆⋄)¸.·'*)¸⋅⋆⋄'*¨)

Prompt: You're immortal and have passed 'the hero phase' centuries ago. You enter a small corner shop one day to find it is owned by your millenia-old arch-nemesis. You really, really need milk though.