Congratulations on Taking That Magical Hobo's Advice!

He’ll be rummaging in some dumpsters outside of your stock exchange, which is a socially acceptable means of getting what people refer to as a “power lunch” in this economy, when you first meet him. You’ll see him closing in on a hot dog and you’ll have a roll of quarters ready in your hand so that you can sock him one good and claim your reward, but when he sees your eyes and the violence in them he’ll just smile a toothless grin and say “No worries, son. I’m only here for the puddin’.”

You’ll laugh out loud because that’s what you do in awkward social situations and he’ll laugh back even harder.

“You’se a good kid. I’ll give ya that there German cock for some o’ them quaties.” You’ll look at him skeptically. Negotiation, after all, is the bastion of the weak, negotiation with the homeless doubly so. He’ll spot your hesitation and, seeing an opening, present a counteroffer. “Give you some advice, too. A real pager turn.”

His folksie nonsense will sound about right to you and you’ll acquiesce, tossing him the roll of quarters. He’ll nod, pull one off the roll and bite it with his gums as if to test the nickel. You’ll wince, thinking of the places that quarter has been.

He’ll smile his big toothless grin at you and say, in his trademark folksie fashion, “Buy you’m some o’ them there bio techies, one o’ the ones in genetic member nearing. It’ll work you out real good.”

You’ll smile a big white toothed grin and say “Thank you, magical homeless man.” Then he’ll nod in response and his huge black friend will grab you from behind and run you into the ally. Then the magical homeless man will punch you in the face repeatedly with the quarters. He’ll be surprisingly strong and you’ll lose consciousness quickly.

The next two hours will consist of scattered bouts of agony as you come to and find yourself being raped in turn by the homeless man and his large African companion. When the two finally finish and abandon your prone body to the elements you’ll rest, gather your strength, devour the hot dog they discard on your body and drag yourself back into the stock market. Once inside you’ll buy around fifty thousand dollars of stock in a genetic engineering firm. In the hour and a half before closing the stock will skyrocket due to a late day bidding war between two larger firms interested in buying them out. The money you’ll make in that short time will more than cover your medical bills, and the money to come will one day still your ire and keep you from seeking revenging on that magical, advice giving, rape happy hobo who had a key part in forming the cornerstone of the investment empire that will become a major part of your life.

Congratulations on Taking That Magical Hobo’s Advice!