So...you've just killed a hobo. You're probably wondering what to do now. I'm here to act as a sounding board and to share some tricks of the trade I've learned over the years and from my vast experience in hobicide.
Your first instinct will be to run and confess. Don't bother. The railroad cops don't care. In fact, in their eyes, that's one less guy they have to chuck out of a boxcar. They may treat you as a hero. They may pat you on the back. They may offer you some soup. Don't let them fool you. The only thing more untrustworthy than a hobo is a railroad cop. He'll knock you upside your head with his lantern and take your socks as soon as your back is turned. Railroad cops are notorious for stealing socks.
First thing you need to do after killing a hobo is ask yourself: Did this hobo deserve to be killed by me? More than likely, the answer is yes. Hobos, much like their alternative counterparts the hippies, generally contribute very little to society. Sure, they've given us some catchy tunes over the years (King of the Road, Conjunction Junction, and Adagio for Strings spring to mind), but for the most part, all they do is eat beans from a can and faintly smell of burnt cabbage. There is the rare occassion when you will discover that no, in fact, that hobo did not deserve to die at your hand. What's past is past, I say. Live for tomorrow, and chalk it up to bad timing on your part.
Next, you may wonder What should I do with this hobo's body? A good question. Again, instinct will tell you to simply roll him out of the car and let someone else deal with him. However, you are forgetting an important detail: Fresh hobo meat is surprisingly tender. The odds are extremely high that your hobo has quietly been stewing himself with 100-proof grain alchohol for quite some time. Consider it a treat for a job well done, and get that open flame going. But Sheldon, you say, isn't that considered cannibilism? Nonsense! Everyone knows that hobos turn into chickens at night. They are very much like werewolves, only more feathery. I mean, really! How do you think KFC continues to be a major player in the fast-food industry? Answer: an endless supply of hobo-chicken hybrids.
You may be tempted to steal the hobo's identity and go across country getting into adventures. This is very tempting. Especially, if you are, say, an insurance adjuster from Lawrence, Kansas. I would advise against it, though. Sure, on the outside, it looks very exciting. Everyone would love to become Gus the Crime-Solving Hobo. However, the fact remains, you probably won't solve many crimes. Hobos are not known for their crime-solving abilities, and if anything, it will make you a target for the other hobos. They tend to be a jealous bunch, and are really looking for any excuse to poke you with the shiv they made out of a hairpin and the neck from a bottle of Old Grandad. Don't tempt fate - just go on about your business.
You may ask, If I do decide to become that hobo, can I ever come back and take my life back should I grow tired of it? I will be honest with you, it's tough. That's not to say it can't be done, but it is rare that someone leaves the world of hobodom, and crosses back into society. Me personally, I've only seen it a few times: John Steinbeck, Boxcar Willie, and Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but they really are the exception.
Should I notify the hobo's next of kin? A logical question. The simple answer is no, hobos have no next of kin. Most people don't know this, but hobos grow on a mystical tree in New Jersy. Hoboken, to be exact.
I hope this brief overview has helped, and please feel free to come back to from time to time. Whether you plan on killing hobos as a career or just as a hobby, these simple steps will help you get the most out of your hobo bloodlust. Now, get out there and do some damage.
The 5:06 is running right on time.
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