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The Most Important Thing for a Hobofight


The Guy Fausto

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Fausto: “Shouldigowithepissstainyelloworthewinestainedmaro on?”

 

The Scene fades in as Fausto, in full hobo regalia and pink bathrobe holds up two other robes in a solitary janitorial closet with the door wide open. One that is a brownish yellow, the other looking as if it were sitting on the bottom of a tub in winery.

 

Fausto: “Fashionforhobofightsissotoughtodecide.”

 

Vimes: “There you are.”

 

Vimes comes into the closet and closes it behind him.

 

Vimes: “You’re a hard one to keep track of.”

 

Fausto holds the robes up to his torso.

 

Fausto: “Whatdoyouthinkpissstainyelloworwinestainmaroon?”

 

Vimes: “You’re a hideous chubby beast and you’re going to look terrible in whatever you wear.”

 

Fausto: “Youarenotanicehelpermidget.”

 

Vimes: “There’s more important things to worry about, you know.”

 

Fausto: “Youreright.”

 

Fausto turns around, seeming to settle on the yellow brown robe. He then switches to two pieces of flannel. Both are dank and filthy as hell, with one blue and the other black.

 

Fausto: “Addingnewshirtstomycollectionbecauseitsbeengettin gcolderoutside.”

 

Vimes: “I’ve watched your entire career in this company. You’ve dealt with many psychos before. It’s like you just attract them.”

 

Fausto: “Bluewouldbringoutthecolorofmyeyeseventhoughtheirb rown.”

 

Vimes: “I’ve seen the way Nate Ortiz gets. You’re one of his biggest rivals. He can be a sadistic man and he has done so many times against you. Sure, you provoked some of it there, but the point is Nate can be pretty vicious. But he’s not the worst of em.”

 

Fausto: “Blacklookscoolthoughandblackisalwayscoolitwillmak emecoolwiththeeighteentothirtyfourdemographic.”

 

Vimes: “You had Blake Ma’jin. A psychopath who thought he was the hottest and sexy person in OCW. If you look at him, you’d think he’d a psychopath on the combination of that belief and his appearance alone. He loved mind games. Nothing more than playing with your head. And some fascination with giving you a make over.”

 

Fausto: “Imadeblondelookgooddammit.”

 

Vimes: “You had Parker’s tag team partner...Michael Morrison. A psycho, but at least a direct psycho. He had no reservations about simply punching you in the face. He’s confusing to understand as a whole, but his motivations were not. He was straight to the point, no bullshit, he just punched you in the damn face and that was it. That made his day.”

 

Fausto: “Blackisveryclichethoughandimafasiontrendsetter.”

 

Vimes: “But there’s just something wrong about Parker. At first, he was just like Morrison. He just wanted to hurt you. Nothing fancy, week in, week out, he wanted to destroy you. He nearly did at Road To Glory.”

 

Fausto: “TheblackonesmelltoocleanhowiamIsupposetobeprotect edfromtheplagueifitstooclean?”

 

Vimes: “That I could deal with. Direct, pissed off psychos are easy to deal with. But he showed restraint two weeks ago. There’s something different there, and I’ve been around in this business long enough to see it. He’s waiting. He’s letting the desire to destroy you build up.”

 

Fausto: “Theblueoneseemsextradankywhichmeansextraprotectio nfromtheplague.”

 

Vimes: “He’s going to unleash at Wrestlution. I mean, what better stage to destroy someone, where millions of viewers from around the world will be watching it? And because you had to open your big, stinky, rotting mouth, he doesn’t have to beat you to a three count. He’s going to try to beat you into unconsciousness, and possibly past that.”

 

Fausto: “Reallyleadingtowardstheblueonewhatdoyouthinkhelpe rmidget?”

 

Vimes: “Have you been listening to a word I said? There’s a cold, calculated psychopath after you who wants to crush your skull and I am absolutely sure he doesn’t care what you’re wearing when he does it. You need to get yourself in gear, hobo, do some training, do something. It’s not about the title here.”

 

Fausto: “Shinymetalgoldthingisanametagforshoppingcartkeeps otherhobosaway.”

 

Vimes: “You’re going to sit here apathetic while all this happens. You’re not going to give a shit until he’s breathing down your neck with a chair about to go across the back of your skull.”

Fausto: “Itisthewayofthehobofighthobospreparefornothingbec ausrhtheyarealwaysprepared.”

 

Vimes: “You’re a goddamned idiot. There’s really nothing I can do here. This is completely you, you and your idiot luck. There’s something the back of my head that hopes Parker succeeds. I’d wish for it openly if I didn’t like money so much, just so you can stop being a hideous idiot savant. Then again, you’ll always be hideous.”

 

Vimes facepalms himself, shakes his head, then leaves the closet.

 

Fausto: “Theansweristowearbothsoimlesslikelytogetthecoldor plagueorthedreadedocoldplague.”

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