Kiss The Ring

You would rather risk amoebic dysentery and hepatitis than spend a single moment in a festering dungeon deep in the kingdom of the hobos. You reach out, bending one knee, and take his hand in yours. Slowly, you bring his callused and stinking talon to your mouth, repressing a strong urge to vomit at the fetid smell. Puckering your lips, you prepare to kiss his “ring” which is actually a wet and very worn band-aid. The solemn oath sinks in to your bones, making them tingle. “Rise and be proud, for you are now a soldier of the kingdom of hobos,” announces the king. Cheers erupt from the crowd, and they carry you about the humid chamber in welcoming celebration. A hobo pipe-band, playing instruments made from detritus and flushed objects, begins to play a jig. For the first time in your life, you feel at home.

“Enough!” the king declares, and you are gently deposited before him. “I regret the need to cut short your welcome, but our kingdom is beset by a great peril. I believe you are the chosen one spoken of in hobo legend. You see, a powerful rival kingdom will stop at nothing to force us from our hereditary lands. Our spies tell us they are planning a full-scale invasion within the fortnight. In order to thwart their nefarious plans we require a powerful relic that has been lost to us for eons. You must be the one to retrieve it. It will not be easy, for there are many obstacles in your path, but we will give you all the weapons at our disposal to aid in the quest.”

At a gesture from the king, a hobo steps forward and slips a mouldy, grime-encrusted tunic over your head “Your armor,” he says, “Has been made by our greatest burlap-weavers. It can repel almost any attack and will keep you warm in the coldest hours before dawn.”

Another hobo approaches and kneels before you. He presents a stick with a bundled red kerchief tied to the end: “Your sword has been forged by our most skilled stick-smiths. Legends say it can cut cleanly through dense sea air without losing its edge. It will also provide in your time of greatest need.”

So armed and garbed in the finest the hobo kingdom has to offer, you are led by a somber and reeking retinue to another cavern deep within the bowels of the earth. Eventually the king stops and bows deeply: “We can go no further, for it is your destiny alone to retrieve the sacred relic and save our kingdom from certain annihilation. I cannot tell you what it is or where it may be found, but the journey starts here.” The hobos now depart without ceremony, leaving the way you came. The path ahead forks in two directions; trusting your instincts as the savior of the hobo kingdom you hold the mighty bindle stick aloft and stride into the darkness. Your courage alone lights the path.

LEFTY LOOSY – CLICK HERE
RIGHTY TIGHTY – CLICK HERE