The Hobo’s Tale

The Hobo was a friendly man yet he
       Was seen as a junkie, the scum, a freak.
       His clothes were torn; his hair a mangled weed,
       His shoes worn; his tweed jacket without tweed.
       But if you looked inside him you would see
       The most unique man there ever could be.
       It was not his fault what happened that day.
       The day that changed his life in a great way.
       The events that twisted his mind and then
       Made it so he'd never be sane again.
       Though he means well, he can't be accepted.
       He's strange and so he's always rejected.
       I'll tell you his story now, his tall tale.
       What he says has left him so thin and frail.

              "Hey, you! Kid!" The Hobo stared menacingly at the teenaged boy.
       "...What?" The kid stood on the sidewalk uneasily.
       "Lemme tell you a story!"
       "Uh, no thanks."
       "Uh, I said, let me tell you a story."
       "And I declined."
              "Do it!"
       "No."
       "Come on!"
       And so the discussion continued for another half-hour like this, at which point the Hobo tackled the kid, tied him up, and forced him to listen.
       "Alright, now it all started three years..."
       "Look, I don't care about your stupid life story now let me go!" The teenager was growing increasingly angry.
       "Oh, I see what the problem is here."
       The Hobo taped the teenager's mouth shut with some duct tape he had found. "Now, as I was saying, it all started about three years ago in a little town called New York City."
       The teenager rolled his eyes but listened anyway.
       "I worked for the CEO of some computer company. The pay was good, the job was decent, and it wasn't intolerably repetitive. I had gotten up at my usual time that Monday morning and gone to work a little late since I hadn't done the research I was supposed to last night. As soon as I walked in the door I knew something was up."
      

       "Morning, Becky, how are you?"
       "The cheese products are slowly stealing my sanity, Dan..." Becky's eyes were fixed and glazed over.
       "I...see... Okay I think I'll be leaving now..." Dan slowly backed away from the unusually insane Becky and went to the elevator. When he got there there were already a few people waiting.
       "Janet, did you try the Cheese Whiz? It's like a cheese explosion in my mouth!" Jennifer was ecstatic.
       "It's not as good as those cheese crackers! They literally knocked me off my feet!" It seemed that both Jennifer and Janet had become possessed by some evil advertising company. Dan said nothing and rode the elevator up to his floor, number 75.
       As he stepped off the elevator the rank odor of Swiss cheese wafted in. He looked around to see if someone was cooking something, but instead found that everyone had a block of Swiss cheese on his or her desk. He asked one of them, Brett, where he got the cheese.
       "Did you know that cheese is nature's candy!?"
       "Brett, I asked you where you got the cheese, not what its composition is."
       "You didn't! Hahahaha!" Brett dropped on the floor and exploded with laughter.
       "Idiot..." Dan muttered under his breath. He decided to try his luck again on Yamaguchi.
       "Hey, Guchi, do you have any idea what's going on here?"
       "Hello!"
       "..."
       "Hello!"
       "Hmmm, nothing unusual here. Well, three times a charm, maybe Sheila will help me out." He walked over to her desk and asked her what the story was.
       "Floor 666! Floor 666!" After saying those words, Sheila promptly convulsed and slumped over dead.
       "Hm. Gates's office. Figures he would have something to do with this. Time to do some interrogation." He walked back to the elevator and pushed the dark red button marked "Hell's Gate." He stepped off the elevator some twenty minutes later and into Gates's office.
       "Why hello Dan!" Bill Gates had put on his Hannibal Lecter accent for the time being. "What can I do for you?"
       "I want to know why the hell everyone is going insane talking about cheeses. You wouldn't have anything to do with that would you?"
       "Oh...no...of course not..." As Bill was talking, he pushed a small button on his desk, locking the doors. "Actually what I meant to say is that yes, I am the mastermind."
       "What do you think you're doing Gates!?"
       "Well, you see Dan, over the years I've realized that people have a real love of money, and they'll do anything to get it. Also through the years I've developed a method of removing the very soul of a human being to be used in artificial intelligence projects. Unfortunately it only works when the person is willing. So what I did was offer everyone a million dollars in exchange for their soul. If they didn't give in, I told them how I would put them out on the streets with no food, no money, and no home. No one resisted after that."
       "You sick freak... Well, that explains the emptiness, but what's with the cheese?"
       "Oh, I just bought a shipment of Kraft cheeses and wanted some free advertisements."
       "It's sick the way you manipulate people, but clever nonetheless."
       "Yes... but now it's your turn, Dan. What will it be? Your soul or your future?
       "As I see it, without a soul I have no future period. I refuse to give in to your demands, no matter for how much money."
       "What!?" The office resonated with the loud, demonic yell. "You can't say no! You're human! You want money! Take it!"
       "You can take your cheese and shove it, I'm not giving you satisfaction."
       "...Fine. Have it your way. I banish you to the streets of New York City to live forever as a hobo. Begone!"
       In a flash of light Dan was sitting in the alleyways of New York, wearing nothing but some torn rags for clothing.
      

       "And that's how I got here today," said Dan. "Did you learn anything?" The teenager nodded, his mouth still covered in duct tape. Dan walked over and removed the duct tape. "So, what was it you learned?"
       "I learned not to listen to hobos for one thing. You expect me to believe that Bill Gates is the ultimate incarnation of evil and that he steals the souls of his workers?" A few moments of silence. "Okay so that's not so hard to believe. But where's your proof?
       "Right...here..." Dan lifted up the rags in front of his chest to reveal a tattoo reading "Buy Kraft Brand Cheeses". "He couldn't steal my soul but he did manage to make me into an advertisement."
       "...Alright, I believe you. No man, sane or insane, would want to endorse Kraft cheeses. Would you mind letting me go now? I really have to get home."
       "I will, but listen to my words of wisdom. Do not let money get a hold on you. Do not fall victim to trickery. And do not buy Microsoft products. Godspeed, young soldier, and may you prosper."
       Dan untied the boy and let him go. As he was walking away the boy stopped and pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his shirt pocket. "You'll need this more than I will." He tossed the rolled up twenty to Dan. "Thanks for the advice."
       Dan watched the boy walk down the sidewalk back home and suddenly felt a hand touch his shoulder. "Why, hello, Dan. It's been a long time hasn't it?"

David