Post by Hobo on Mar 8, 2018 12:05:08 GMT -5
Dumpster diving. It’s the true sport of kings for the cheap, the poor, and the homeless. That is exactly what is happening right now as the scene opens to a dumpster just behind the Macy’s nested downtown just a few miles away from the Action Wrestling arena. The dumpster is pretty clean considering that it’s a dumpster, but then again, it’s behind a Macy’s, so they likely have their minimum wage employees scrub it. However, around the dumpster looks a total mess. There are clothes, bags, and all kinds of other items thrown all around it. As the scene is showing these images, another set of clothes are thrown out and they hit the ground with a soft thud. The scene pans back and you can see a shopping cart filled with bags, miscellaneous items, and some familiar clear jugs filled with a yellow substance. Those piss jugs can only mean that Hobo is in that dumpster.
Sure enough, Hobo pops his head out and shimmies his way free of the dumpster. He hits the ground and begins to go through the clothing on the alley street. He smiles as he holds up an obvious women’s blouse, but he holds it up to his filthy, hairy chest and nods affirmatively. Hobo begins to pile up the clothing and stack it inside his overfilled shopping cart, and as he does, a familiar face steps into the alley with a camera crew.
Shia Lebouf, the star of Transformers, Daytime Emmy Award winner, one-time banger of celebrities, steps into the alley. After his numerous drunken arrests, one most notably in a Walgreens at 4 in the morning, Shia is a mere shell of the man he once was. He was once at the top of the world and now he has to slum it in the carny world of professional wrestling. Where all careers go to die. Speaking of death, Shia takes a long, hard look at the man calling himself Hobo in Action Wrestling. Shia knows full well that it could be him standing there rummaging through some old, discarded clothing if it weren’t for the grace of some weird ass mother fucker named Gravedigger. Shia knew that it was bizarre that a guy would go by a name like that, but he’d seen worse. He once spent three months with Jean Claude Van Damme in Bangkok with a fistful of cash and a group of ladyboys.
Shia steels himself, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of odor that would emit from this disgusting man, and then speaks.
Shia: Hobo, my good man, I hear you would like to do an interview?
Hobo’s face brightens up as he sees his favorite Transformers actor. Don’t even bring up that bullshit with Marky Mark, Hobo thinks to himself as he shakes the hand of Shia. Hobo doesn’t even see Shia blanch and try to wipe off his hand.
Hobo: Hey there Shi, I hope you’ve had a good ‘un. I’ve been pickin’ out some new clothin’ for my new place. Once I win that TV Title, I’m gonna park my trailer house right there in the alley behind the arena. It’s gonna be good, y’know?
A dry-heave from Shia as the wind blows from behind Hobo and straight over into Shia’s location.
Shia: Right. So what have you been up to? I see you’ve been digging in dumpsters; is that it?
Hobo shakes his head and as he does so, little bits of what Shia HOPES were dust fly off of his head. Immediately, Shia’s head begins to itch.
Hobo: Naw, I ain’t been doin’ this long. I’ve been doin’ other stuff. Like yesterday I found a half-eaten Quiznos sandwich in the trash can outside the Quiznos. An’ to make it better, some dummy tossed their half-drank drink. I ate like a king, Shi. I ate like a king!
Hobo stands there looking satisfied and pleased with himself, while all Shia could think about was the time he shot a huge load all over Megan Fox’s face during a Transformers filming break. He really misses Hollywood.
Shia: Well that’s great. Is that it? I thought you wanted to do some kind of interview or introduce yourself to everyone.
Hobo: Oh yeah, that’s right.
Hobo now waves at the camera.
Hobo: Hi, I’m Hobo. I like dancin’ to bluegrass, I like punchin’ people fer a livin, and I love watchin’ that sexy Andrea Mitchell on the evenin’ news with that one feller, Lester Holt.
Shia sighs softly and wishes he was back snorting lines with Christopher Walken.
Shia: And…?
Hobo: And I’m a friendly sort, unless ye get me riled up. Me an’ my dog Bum just like t’ walk around and have a good time. I’m always lookin’ fer a meal, so if’n someone wants to buy me one, come on then!
Shia realizes that this interview is going nowhere and decides to end things right there. He often thinks of ending things; like his life. Once he thought about hanging himself in Tom Cruise’s house, that way when everyone found him, they’d all cry and be really sad at his funeral. Yes, that would be such a beautiful moment and everyone would be so sad. They’d regret not letting him star in the new Mission Impossible movie, and a high-profile suicide would make them sorry. They’d all be really sorry.
Shia shakes his head and wipes the thought from his memory... for the moment.
Shia: Hobo, this has been riveting. Thank you for the interview.
Hobo slaps a hand on Shia’s back, sending a random, bone-chilling thought of “Can bed bugs be transferred by a homeless guy?”. The answer, of course, is yes.
Hobo: Yer welcome, sonny. Have a good ‘un!
Hobo turns back to his cart and crams even more clothes into it as Shia turns to walk away. He breathes heavily as he steps back into the street and for a fleeting moment, thinks about stepping into traffic, before he walks down the sidewalk and into a bar.
Fade to black
Sure enough, Hobo pops his head out and shimmies his way free of the dumpster. He hits the ground and begins to go through the clothing on the alley street. He smiles as he holds up an obvious women’s blouse, but he holds it up to his filthy, hairy chest and nods affirmatively. Hobo begins to pile up the clothing and stack it inside his overfilled shopping cart, and as he does, a familiar face steps into the alley with a camera crew.
Shia Lebouf, the star of Transformers, Daytime Emmy Award winner, one-time banger of celebrities, steps into the alley. After his numerous drunken arrests, one most notably in a Walgreens at 4 in the morning, Shia is a mere shell of the man he once was. He was once at the top of the world and now he has to slum it in the carny world of professional wrestling. Where all careers go to die. Speaking of death, Shia takes a long, hard look at the man calling himself Hobo in Action Wrestling. Shia knows full well that it could be him standing there rummaging through some old, discarded clothing if it weren’t for the grace of some weird ass mother fucker named Gravedigger. Shia knew that it was bizarre that a guy would go by a name like that, but he’d seen worse. He once spent three months with Jean Claude Van Damme in Bangkok with a fistful of cash and a group of ladyboys.
Shia steels himself, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of odor that would emit from this disgusting man, and then speaks.
Shia: Hobo, my good man, I hear you would like to do an interview?
Hobo’s face brightens up as he sees his favorite Transformers actor. Don’t even bring up that bullshit with Marky Mark, Hobo thinks to himself as he shakes the hand of Shia. Hobo doesn’t even see Shia blanch and try to wipe off his hand.
Hobo: Hey there Shi, I hope you’ve had a good ‘un. I’ve been pickin’ out some new clothin’ for my new place. Once I win that TV Title, I’m gonna park my trailer house right there in the alley behind the arena. It’s gonna be good, y’know?
A dry-heave from Shia as the wind blows from behind Hobo and straight over into Shia’s location.
Shia: Right. So what have you been up to? I see you’ve been digging in dumpsters; is that it?
Hobo shakes his head and as he does so, little bits of what Shia HOPES were dust fly off of his head. Immediately, Shia’s head begins to itch.
Hobo: Naw, I ain’t been doin’ this long. I’ve been doin’ other stuff. Like yesterday I found a half-eaten Quiznos sandwich in the trash can outside the Quiznos. An’ to make it better, some dummy tossed their half-drank drink. I ate like a king, Shi. I ate like a king!
Hobo stands there looking satisfied and pleased with himself, while all Shia could think about was the time he shot a huge load all over Megan Fox’s face during a Transformers filming break. He really misses Hollywood.
Shia: Well that’s great. Is that it? I thought you wanted to do some kind of interview or introduce yourself to everyone.
Hobo: Oh yeah, that’s right.
Hobo now waves at the camera.
Hobo: Hi, I’m Hobo. I like dancin’ to bluegrass, I like punchin’ people fer a livin, and I love watchin’ that sexy Andrea Mitchell on the evenin’ news with that one feller, Lester Holt.
Shia sighs softly and wishes he was back snorting lines with Christopher Walken.
Shia: And…?
Hobo: And I’m a friendly sort, unless ye get me riled up. Me an’ my dog Bum just like t’ walk around and have a good time. I’m always lookin’ fer a meal, so if’n someone wants to buy me one, come on then!
Shia realizes that this interview is going nowhere and decides to end things right there. He often thinks of ending things; like his life. Once he thought about hanging himself in Tom Cruise’s house, that way when everyone found him, they’d all cry and be really sad at his funeral. Yes, that would be such a beautiful moment and everyone would be so sad. They’d regret not letting him star in the new Mission Impossible movie, and a high-profile suicide would make them sorry. They’d all be really sorry.
Shia shakes his head and wipes the thought from his memory... for the moment.
Shia: Hobo, this has been riveting. Thank you for the interview.
Hobo slaps a hand on Shia’s back, sending a random, bone-chilling thought of “Can bed bugs be transferred by a homeless guy?”. The answer, of course, is yes.
Hobo: Yer welcome, sonny. Have a good ‘un!
Hobo turns back to his cart and crams even more clothes into it as Shia turns to walk away. He breathes heavily as he steps back into the street and for a fleeting moment, thinks about stepping into traffic, before he walks down the sidewalk and into a bar.
Fade to black