And once again he was alone. Well, alone-ish. He knew that the woman was still in the store and occasionally heard her walking around. And he had his cat. However, he had the peace of being left alone.
Mitch's own food selection process was much less promising. He was just focusing on the 'then' for the moment and the 'then' was a frozen box of fish and chips. Holding the bat in his elbow and the cookie dough in the other hand, he grabbed the box from the freezer and read the heating directions. He may not have been British, but he was craving comfort food after such a long drive. Even if it was frozen and from a box, it was still fried. That's what really mattered to him. It was just a matter of figuring out a decent way to microwave it. The box falsely assumed that everyone would used an oven.
He was about to head for the small appliances to see what he could do, but there she was again. For awhile he thought she was going to really leave him alone. "What?" He grumbled and frowned, making a clearly non-friendly image. The moody cat on his shoulder probably didn't make him seem any nicer. "I'm busy, so do you mind? If you want your own cookie dough, it's in aisle three!"