RE: Console Fanboys Forced to Switch Sides - Game Sack

made friends with the homeless guy hanging around my apartment One day he was hanging around the parking lot. I saw him there so I got an idea. Got this brilliant idea to finally help him out, and help myself at the same time.

So it was a saturday I think. I had the apartment to myself. No one else was home. I invited him over for a little meal. Nothing too serious, just some sandwiches between friends.

His name was Biggie. Or atleast thats what he always shouted at people to get their attention so that he could beg. Beg for some money. For watching the cars of course. It was his little business. It was how he fed himself. Over in the parking lot.

Of course, he wasn’t there all of the time. I often wondered what other things he did for money. I didn’t really care, I was just curious if there were other parking lots he could pretend to work at to beg.

My roommate told me about something he witnessed on the way to work one day. He described as a “council of homeless men” who meet near the railroad tracks. We often wondered what they talked about.

It was probably smart for them to meet like that. It was a big city. Lots of homeless people. Lots of beggars. They needed some sort of union to decide who got what recycling pickup spots or covered benches. If the streets are their collective home then I’m sure there are some serious squabbles over territory. Maybe they use that time to settle any beef before a council of their peers. Trade stories of life on the streets. Which soup kitchens had the best soup. Which parking lots had the most generous parkees. Probably a lot of gossip.

I wondered who led them. Who called the council together and was looked to in times of desperation and dissension among the ranks? Was it the oldest? Longest beard? Best english? Worst teeth? This last thought really made me chuckle because I thought about what a boardroom in England might look like. Anyway I didn’t really care about homeless politics. Just curious.

So it was a Saturday. As soon as I heard Biggie hollerin outside I put on some shoes and went downstairs.

Hey Biggie!

Hey man whats good?

What are you up to homie?

You know man, just out here on the grind, watching the cars.

Oh yeah I know.

Then I shared a laugh with him. It was a forced laugh. I often saw him laughing with people while he was begging them for some change or making awkward conversation. Nothing was ever that funny. I knew he was forcing it too. Or maybe not. Maybe living on the street gave you a stupid sense of humor.

Say, Biggie, are you hungry?

Not really man why?

Well I just made some sandwiches for us and I know it’s cold and all so I figured I’d invite you up for some dinner.

Awww man that’s too nice B. I’ll come on up lets go.

So I motioned for him to follow me and made some small talk. I’m not going to include that here because who really cares about the small talk you make with homeless people. Anyway, we made our way up the stairs and I unlocked my apartment, leading the way in.

Mind the plastic floor coverings man, we are doing some painting.

Oh no problem, B thanks again.

Thanks.

So I walked him into the dining room where there sat a small plate with a two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on them. I picked PB&J because it's such a classic sandwich to give a homeless person. I could have cooked him anything, but I chose a simple little mooshie bread thing. It doesn’t sound as funny now, but shit, when I thought of it I got a real good chuckle.

That’s us. I said, pointing to a chair.

We took our seats and he began to eat.

I started wondering what I should say.

So what have you been up to these days? I asked stupidly, staring at this man eating a sandwich.

He gave some answer, I don’t remember what it was.

I started wondering what he looked like without clothes. I started wondering what he looked like without those shoes. Always the same shoes. How he looked without his feet. Or hands.

So what color you painting the place? He said while looking around. Doubtlessly trying to identify some indications of color on the walls or buckets of paint. He wouldn’t find anything of course.

We were thinking red. Though it really depends.

Oh red is a strong color, good color B.

Yeah I know you like red. That’s the color of that stupid hat you always wear - I thought to myself

When he was about halfway done with his sandwich I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

When I came back holding a crossbow he looked a little confused. Then he got that scared look on his face where the eyeballs start protruding more than usual. It was pretty classic actually. He even perked up out of the chair all tense like a deer catching the scent of a hunter.

I shot him right in the shoulder. He screamed a lot of obsenities, but I’m not even going to describe that boring shit right now. Just imagine a stupid fuck wailing about this and that.

Luckily he fell to the ground almost immediately. More than likely due to the heavy amounts of rat poison I put in his sandwich. I was wondering when that would kick in. Also how did he not taste it? I guess it had a familiar trash taste for him. Anyway I got to work.

First step was to bind him to the radiator. The second I did this I sort of chuckled, sort of felt bad. How uncreative. I mean really? The radiator? So to make up for my lack of creativity I took a couple of spare arrows and impaled his calf muscles to the floor. Much better.

While I had him there spread out on the floor I ran over the kitchen to grab another knife. By now he had passed out. Thank god, I was getting tired of hearing him wail. Also, thank god my neighbors weren't home.

Next was the clothes. I was still curious what he looked like without them. I didn’t really care if I fucked up his skin at this point because I knew I was going to take that off too, so I haphazardly cut open his clothing. I didn’t bother taking it off though. No reason to waste precious effort or expend calories. I had already wasted food on this guy- or really just piece of flesh at this point. I was pretty strapped for cash in those days and crossbows are expensive. So is peanut butter believe it or not.

Anyway, once the clothes were torn open, I set about satisfying my other curiousity. What would Biggie look like without hands and feet? Smallie?

Yeah he looked like Smallie.

It was weird because his ankles and wrists were already so thin that once his hands and feet were gone it looked like his arms and legs were ice picks. He had a really weird belly thing too so overall he looked a lot like that pirate guy with wooden arms and legs from family guy. Only blacker. Not for long though.

Soon I set about removing his skin. I’m not gonna lie. I think I did a really shitty job. Nothing trains you to flay a homeless man. I think its just a gift, you either have it or you don’t.

It was at this point I realized he might still be alive. I saw a flutter in his chest and got worried, so I removed his head. No vocal chords, no more screaming. Lots more blood though.

Anyway, lunch with the homeless guy went well. He was a little messy, but what can you expect from a guy who lives on the streets?