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Hey kid! Come on over here. I wanna tell you a story.

No, don't you keep walking. Get over here. Your mommy's gonna be a while in there, I can tell. I saw what she had for lunch.

Don't worry, you can trust me. I got a nice honest face, don't I?

Aren't I adorable?

Wait...what do you want?

Oh, I just want to tell you about what I sacrificed for your freedom.

You see, son, I come from harder times. Back in the day, Uncle Sam could send you where ever he wanted whenever he wanted. And that's what he done to me. I went to go fight for my country without complaint.[1] Lost both my legs over in 'Nam. Then they spit me right out on the streets right out of the hospital and I had no money. I didn't get no medals. I didn't get no "thank you." I didn't get SHIT.[2]

...the FUCK you lookin' at, kid? This is my shit! You hear that? MINE!!

Wow, Can I go now?

What the fuck, son? Turn off that damned Walkman! What's with you kids...disrespectful...grrmph...

Since then, I've been wandering around DC jus' tryin' tah get by. I have no idea where I'ma sleep tonight. No idea where I slept last night, either. Goddamn Olive Garden got a new manager last week so they stopped giving me the day old breadsticks. Fuggin pinkos, tha's what they is. Marchin' and wavin' signs and snortin' their drugs n' shit offa Jane Fucking Fonda's asscrack. And here I am starvin' to death after I shed blood for this country. I haven't eaten in days. Know what sounds good right about now?


Naw, son! Money! Nickels, pennies, ooh! quarters! Yeah, quarters are my favorite. That is, next to paper money. That's my favorite. Yeah, nothin' beats foldin' money. It's the tops. The bee's knees. But that don't mean I wouldn't like some jingle as well. Any kind will do. I just wish I knew where to get me some.

These men were like brothers to me. Except that nigger in the middle. I dunno who that is.

At work?

Work? Have you been listenin' to a fuckin' WORD I been sayin'?

I don't work, son. Work is for suckers. I tried workin' once. I had a job, yeah. And my boss treated me like SHIT. Know what his fuckin' name was? LYNDON FUCKING JOHNSON! I don't work no more, son. I never quite fit in after the war. I guess people didn't like me screaming at them because my fuckin' COFFEE WAS COLD AS HELL AND I LOST MY LEGS FOR YER FUGGIN FREEDOM MUTHERFUCKER!![3]

Calm down, sir! What do you want from me?

I want some respect, that's what I want. Yeah, respect. Something like twenty dollars' worth of respect. Or just whatever you got to spare. Hell, even just a smile out of a young lad like yerself would make my day.

Good, because that's all you're getting out of me.

What? You little shit!

Er, I mean, there's no way that's all you have to give a poor homeless war veteran, eh? I mean, I've got enough Agent Orange in my lungs to kill a bull elephant. You've got to take some pity on me, *coughcough* pleeeease!

Jus' look atcha. Faggot.

...How do I know you won't just spend this on booze?

...God dammit.

You're one of them hippies, ain'tcha? Out to spread your "luv&peece" bullshit all over the fuckin' place, ain'tcha? Get back to your nudist commune with yer pot farms and yer anti-war paraphernalia and yer tie dye shirts and yer love bus and yer peace signs and yer...Jane Fonda. Fuckin' commie.

Uhh...*flush* I think I hear my mom. I'm gonna go see if she wiping.


Ah, it's no use. Mebbe I'll go back down to that fruit stand outside the Smithsonian and breathe on the fruit.[4]


  1. Because I had to.
  2. No wait, that's not true. Some dog took a shit on my face while I was asleep a couple nights ago. Then I caught him the next day and ate 'im. You learn a lot of things from those slant-eyes.
  3. Actually, the coffee wasn't what was bothering me. Lil' bastard just looked at me funny. Damn interns.
  4. Last time, he let me have the apples for free after I sneezed on em. Maybe I'll try it down at the Olive Garden instead.

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