The ghetto puppeteer

As the season grows colder I become more and more desperate for faster and more convenient bike routes to school. One crisp Wednesday evening changed my brain-thoughts forever! As I battle 60 kilometer per hour head winds, I decide to call it quits on the bike trail and head inland—towards the city. While riding the Speed master
(a black diamond-studded stallion speed bike, which has been blessed with a thousand lost bike souls. It was then knighted and was chosen to be the first bike ridden is space. After developing an acid addiction, the bike went untouched for five years. On the fifth day of the fifth year, a young mysterious cloaked man found the bike in a bank vault while robbing it, he now rides it on a regular basis)
I noticed the scenery becoming a little more poor, and the cardboard percentage quadrupled. I had done found myself in the center of Windsor’s ghetto. This thought was then validated when I saw a leather coated elderly women urinate on her dog. “She is tough!” I yelled with anxiety. I started pedaling as fast as I possibly could until I saw him. In all his beauty. A Pant-less, hole-socked, street-greased homeless man wearing two brown paper bag puppets. Grime everywhere, as if an angel had applied stage make-up to his inner-thighs and coat. I looked into his eyes and realized that he smelled like global warming (one hundred years of industry and agriculture). I started crying and then threw a temper tantrum. Once I regained my composure I took a locket of his beard and attached it to my hair. He told me that one locket of homeless hair was enough to keep me warm in the coldest of temperatures. In essence, it was the secret of hobo vitality!!!

I later sold the secret.