Authorities reported that Wendell Schaeffer was at the scene of the crime…at least partially, according to his story. A long-time employee of the supermarket, Wendell claimed that his occupation was a “stepping stone” to his “true calling.” He wanted to become the head chef of the supermarket’s bakery. His aspirations had him bound to continue his nightly duty of restocking shelves, and it’s this particular responsibility that led him to be at the place and time of General Cornelius Mills’ untimely demise.
According to Schaeffer, he was listening to his favorite podcast, “How to Bake Like the Bawss You Are,” while pushing his oversized product cart from aisle to aisle. He’d recently clocked in at 10:30pm, half an hour before store closing, filled his cart above eye level, and pushed off to the aisle 7 to unload his burden of toasted and sugar-filled breakfast foods. After passing the ice-freezer, he began to round the end cap when he suddenly felt his cart halt. Looking around his cart on either side, he expected to find that he’d run into the bottom shelf of the aisle, but to his surprise, he found…nothing. He quietly wheeled backwards a foot or so, and then pushed forward again, and yet, AGAIN, he met resistance. Stepping to the front of the cart to inspect the wheels (maybe he’d run over a piece of rubble that had stopped the motion of his carriage), he found, to his horror, that he’d inadvertently, and quite accidentally, run into an elderly man. Ripping his earbuds from his head, he began to inquire if he could help the man, but before he could, the victim writhing on the floor turned to him (oh, no, NOT the General!) and began to fill the air with curses and vows to seek his attacker’s unemployment…at least, that’s what Wendell THOUGHT he must have been saying. As it was, he couldn’t hear anything over the din of the oncoming floor buffer, washing away the day’s grime and making the floor squeaky clean for the next day’s work.
Panicking about the old man’s threats, he quickly shouted, “I’ll get help!,” and ran to the manager’s station. No one was available, so he ran to the storeroom, looking for Samantha, the night manager. At that point, he’d been gone about 3 minutes, so he decided to run back and check on the miser…he WAS human after all…or at least partially.
When he arrived at the scene of the accident, he found that, to his dismay, the scene had turned to one of a crime. The elderly General Mills was dead, and though he couldn’t remember exactly where he’d left his cart, he could swear it had been moved. That’s when he ran to the manager’s station and dialed 911.
That’s the stock boy’s story. Let’s keep looking for clues, shall we?