"mhhhhmmmhmh", the rapid fire pellet gun grunted, "this is some good eats, fat-time!"

fat-time picked a few lumps of cheese dropping from his arm and slid them in his mouth, "mmmmmm, you said it, lubie!"

fat-time noticed a man laying on the sidewalk. he was somewhat disheveled looking, wearing a dirty overcoat and a stocking cap over long, stringy hair, "howdy there, sir."

"howdy frin'... help a man down on his luck?"

fat-time fished a twenty out of his yellowed underwear, "keep the change!"

"thank ya, frin'! i just ain' been in no good shape sin' that damn steel mill put me down!"

"steel mill?!"

"yesir! they threw me out on my ear. killed my mumma from heartbreak!"

"capitalist pigs!"

"you said it frin'! y'all take care now! god blessin' ya!"

"thank you, kind sir!"

fat-time resumed his lethargic stroll down the street, eventually making his way to the corner where he sidled up to a tall, strong looking man with thick glasses and black hair.

"howdy, sir!"

the man looked up from his newspaper, "pleased to make your acquaintance, friend! my name is clark!"

"i'm fat-time. this is lubie."

the rapid fire pellet gun grunted, causing a few curds of cottage cheese to spill out onto fat-time's large, hairy arm.

suddenly, clark gasped, "oh my gosh, that old lady!"

fat-time didn't notice the bus on a collision course with her, "neato! maybe she can help us find a super hero adventure, lubie!"

"mhhmhmhmhmhmh" grunted the pellet gun.

clark threw down his paper and turned toward the telephone booth just behind him. he struggled to open the door.

"gee, clark, what are ya doin' there?!"

"i must get into this telephone booth so that i may become the man of steel and go fetch that old lady!"

fat-time's face grew red, like a bloated pepper, "you glutenous capitalist!"

fat-time grasped the legs of the rapid fire pellet gun and, barely taking a microsecond to aim, unleashed a swarm of death-pellets onto clark.

clark crumpled to the ground, "what the hell are..." with a final gasp, he collapsed into a mass of unviable flesh.

fat-time picked up the paper, "come on, lubie, let's go find a super hero adventure!"

as fat-time carried lubie away, the bus slammed into the old lady, sending her crashing into the linux driven phone booth, which was, after two years, still awaiting the proper drivers for the door opening mechanism.