Target sells out of comfort items in wake of Henry Cavill's red carpet appearance

It was an otherwise unremarkable Friday morning as Jennifer Moore stocked shelves at the Chase Avenue Target in Milwaukee. As a faint rumble in the distance grew louder, Moore couldn't have expected what she would see next.

"It's too early for Black Friday, I said to myself," shaking her head. A few moments later, the store would be overrun by middle aged white women – wearing leggings for pants and hearts on their tear-soaked sleeves. "I've never seen anything like it in my life."

Women across the nation broke out in fits of despair upon learning that English heartthrob Henry Cavill walked his lovely girlfriend, Natalie Viscuso, down the red carpet Thursday night. Cavill, scourge of the ordinary-looking nerd, has dated the Vertigo VP for over a year. Drawing considerable ire from Facebook thirstposting groups, the couple has been subject to harassment, conspiracy theories, and at least one Wiccan curse. The angry mobs took to the one place of refuge they still had left: Target.

"They just started piling in. We had maybe 10, 12 people in the store before 11am," continued Moore. "By my smoke break, the store had 300 women packing the aisles, easy." Ernesto Gallo, the store manager, called the nearby Grafton store asking for backup. Backup never came. It wasn't just the Chase Ave location.

Throughout the country, Target stores were similarly raided by hordes of dejected women – their 0.00001% chance of firing his smoldering beef cannon crumbling before their eyes. Carts were filled haphazardly with Ben and Jerry's flavors like Pumpkin Cheesecake, Minter Wonderland, and Peanut Butter Half Baked.

"Women weren't even getting home with their pints," said Gallo, his hands shaking as he helped frazzled employees clean up the aftermath. "They sat on the big red balls outside, ice cream melting down their hands as they clawed it out of the pints with vengeful looks in their eyes."

Carolyn Plath, an employee of the Mason City Target, reported similar plundering. "We don't have a single bag of Dove Promises. Even the variety bags. They got 'em all," said Plath. "They even got all the Favorite Day chocolate we're still trying to make happen." The Iowa fur mom of 6 said all the throw blankets and copies of My Big Fat Greek Wedding on DVD were also affected by the catastrophic event. "I mean, I get it," said Plath. "I had the biggest lady boner for David Cassidy in my day. Docs had to give me valium when he married Kay Lenz."

Brian Cornell, CEO of the big box department store, held a press conference Friday afternoon to address the unprecedented attack on shelves.

"With respect, you beautiful, sinewy God-man – please, please just give us a heads up next time you're going to flaunt your romance right out here in front of our salads ... Give us time to stock extra inventory. There isn't a single bag of Pop Chips left in the entire state right now, and that's the only snack I allow myself. I'm not going to get my 14 barbecue Pop Chips tonight and that's entirely on you, Cavill. Ugh."

The wound up executive ranted for a few moments about various different Pop Chips he couldn't enjoy tonight before finishing up. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, you're Superman again, and you're happy, but – goddamn man. Some of us have wives that now have to live without the faint glimmer of hope they'd ever get to caress your oiled up forearms like some sort of Grecian washerwoman tending to an Olympian. I'm never going hear the end of this, and I can't even get her a box of Lindt truffles or a 12 pack of Coke Zero because it's all gone. All of it. This is a whole ass nightmare. We will rebuild."