Hobo Joe stumbled as he stepped up
on the curb, and looked down to see what had made him trip. Nothing was there
but a white glove stained with blood.
Hobo Joe dismissed it. He wasn’t in
the best part of town, and anything could have caused the bloodstain on the
glove. If it was even a bloodstain. It could have been Kool-Aid. Or melted
Jello. Or really red dirt. He shrugged, and continued on his merry walk towards
his dumpster, where his cat was waiting for him.
“Hey, Hobo Joe!” Hobo Poe called
out to him. “I got you some chicken!” A chicken dashed out of a trash can,
running into an alley and disappearing.
“Looks like the chicken was to go,”
Hobo Joe said, cracking a smile. It was his favorite joke, and he used it every
single chance he got.
“Sorry, Joe,” Hobo Poe said. “I’ll
get back there and fetch the chicken again.”
“Nah, I got it,” Hobo Joe said. He
followed the chicken back into the alley, where he was startled to find not a
chicken, but two tall men blocking his way.
“Excuse me, mister,” one of the men
said. “Could you tell me if this smells like chloroform?” He held up a rag.
“Well, I would be mighty glad to
help you out, but I’m afraid I don’t know what chloroform smells like,” Hobo
Joe replied politely.
“Trust me,” the other man said. “You’ll
know.”
Hobo Joe shrugged. It looked like
the chicken was long gone. “Might as well give it a try.” He leaned over and
sniffed the rag.
hmm.. what happens next?
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