when i came to my senses i made a horrible discovery.. wowzerz/kyle, my fellow hobo, was missing! sunni and brandon were tied up just like me, but they were still unconscious. I peered around to check the situation out. We were locked up in a cold earthy smelling room. It was a while until i noticed it but there were sounds coming from above.. some shuffling and muffled voices.. and a strange aroma wafted down from overhead. What was that?.. it was like something was baking .. but not something entirely edible... could it be....
KYLE'S SNICKERDOODLES??
no.. that was impossible.. kyle wasn't here.
or was he?
then i heard that cackle.. that mischevious chuckle that could only belong to a french canadian ex-baker.. OLIVER ...impossible.. he was hit with a papier mouchoir bomb, there was a .000001 percent chance of survival... a flash of brightness suddenly filled the room when i realized... i wasn't the only conscious being in the room...
TO BE CONTINUED....

papier mouchoir bombs (translation: bombs of tissue paper). I handed each soldier an explosive and we inched forward only to find that Olivier and Arren weren't at their camp! Suddenly there was a rustling from behind. Sunni threw her bomb and someone cried "Noooooooooo" in an unmistakable french accent. There was a flash of light. Then.. silence and tissue paper confetti. BUT THEN out of nowhere the sweet sweet scent of warm blueberry pie drifted under our noses and everything went black...

TO BE CONTINUED

the International Hobo Operation Pie, also known as IHOP.
this team of highly skilled hobos consisted of super artist/assassin Sunni (codename: MoniToast), twilight-reader/pooper scooper Kyle (codename: Wowzerz17), and fellow 4'9er/specialist in all things gooey Brandon (codename: WhySoGooey).
Together we plotted our revenge on French Canadian Olivier and henchman Arren.
The next night we followed their... tracks... with the help of Kyle and Brandon.
When we finally came upon their camp, I pulled out our secret weapon... the dreaded....

TO BE CONTINUED...

Oliver's deadly doughnuts of doom in my direction.
Blast the French Canadian bakery that hired him! i thought as i retreated behind a nearby dumpster and watched my sweet sweet pie move farther and farther away from me.
It was a dark day... the same day i called together my hobo brethren (who also have a love for pie) and formed....

TO BE CONTINUED

in light of recent events... (coughstevencough) this segment will be a tad bit longer than the rest

PIE.. blueberry by the smell of it.. I started heading toward it, hoping to catch a whiff BUT THEN.. my arch nemesis Oliver the French Canadian fiend showed up.
"Ah 'obo, i 'ave found you at last," he mused.
"What do you want Olivier?" i demanded.
"ONLY your SOUL!" he cried maniacally as he snatched up my beloved blueberry pie.
"NOOOO!"
I tried to run after him but all of a sudden i was under attack! His henchman named Arren was hurling.....
TO BE CONTINUED

i spotted it.. the reason for my existence... FRESHLY BAKED...
TO BE CONTINUED

actually it's full of action-packed fun, except for what happened on that dark, stormy night.. i was just finishing my rounds on the old garbage truck route when suddenly...
TO BE CONTINUED...

Some people think the hobo life is difficult.. but..

TO BE CONTINUED...