Our scene opens as we see Steve Sayors walking down the streets of Boston looking quite flustered, so basically looking pretty normal actually. His head keeps snapping back and forth from left to right and he keeps looking down at a piece of paper he holds in his hand, the camera zooms in on it and it says Soupcan O'Malley and what appears to be an address. Sayors continues scouring the streets looking high and low but still comes up empty handed. He is about to give up when suddenly he sees a man laying inside of a carboard box and walks over to him. The man is asleep but Sayors lightly taps on his shoulder causing the man to jump up to his feet and draws his arm back like he's going to punch Sayors.



Steve Sayors: Hold on Soupcan, hold on.


The man stops just before hitting Sayors and just stares at him.





Man: SOUPCAN? SOUPCAN? Do I look like Soupcan O'Malley to you?


Steve Sayors: Umm..... Yes......


Man: Oh, so you just think all homless people look alike? You racist mother fucker!


The man draws back his arm once again causing Sayors to cower in fear but at the last moment somebody grabs the man's arm, SOUPCAN O'MALLEY.


Soupcan: Calm down lad, don't you know who this is? That's Casey Kasem


Man: Really?


Sayors: Actually I'm Steve Sayors.


Soupcan: Never heard of you, you can hit him then.


Soupcan lets go of the man's arm and the man gets ready to hit Sayors once agin.


Sayors: WAIT, WAIT, WAIT! I'M FROM THE XWF HERE TO INTERVIEW YOU SOUPCAN.


Soupcan saves Sayors life once again and pats the man on the shoulder.


Soupcan: That won't be needed after all lad.


The man now walks off with a look of disappointment on his face leaving Sayors alone with Soupcan.


Soupcan: Now what were you wantin fella?


Sayors: I wanted to get a few words from you about being booked in an eating contest with McOxenballs.



Soupcan: I don't know what you've been told Carson Daily but The Soupster ain't eating no cocks and balls so fuck off.


Sayors: No, no. You're booked against Phil McOxenballs in a pie eating contest.


Soupcan: Listen David Letterman you're not makin a lick o' sense. I'm not feeling no mudder fucking cocks and balls and I'm not taking part in no guy eating contest.


Sayors: I'M STEVE SAYORS AND YOU'RE TAKING ON PHIL MCOXENBALLS IN A PIE EATING CONTEST ON FROD'S SHOVE IT!


Soupcan: Ooooooo, what didn't you say that in the first place there Steve?


Steve face palms.


Sayors: I did.


Soupcan: Did what?


Sayors: You know what... let's just try this again. The pie eating contest, do you have anything to say about it?



Soupcan: Yeah, I'm going to win. I've been on a strict diet of heroin for the past three weeks thanks to Mr. Frodo. God bless that lad, god bless him.


Sayors: But aren't you worried about the two pies full of pig shit?


Soupcan: Pig shit? PIG SHIT? WHAT? That wasn't in me contract, fuck this, I'm out, done.


Soupcan starts to walk away but then comes back with a big grin on his face.


Soupcan: Come on boyo, do you really think I'm afraid of a little pig shit? I'm a drug addict, I've eaten things, terrible things....



Sayors raises an eyebrow.


Sayors: What kind of things.


Soupcan: Horrible nasty disgusting things Mr. Cronkite.


Sayors: Such as....


Soupcan: Well there was this time a bunch of lads paid me $10 to eat a squirrel that got run over and was laying in the street for days. I once got paid $50 to have sex with a dead dog and then eat that. Let's see, what else? Oh this nice lass offered me $100 to gnaw off her bunions, she was a sweet old bag but her feet tasted like cat piss. Speaking of that, cup of cat piss, $15.


Steve Sayors double over starts to projectile vomit everywhere. Soupcan kneels down beside the still doubled over Steve smiling.


Soupcan: Hey Peter Jennings.


Soupcan points to the vomit.


Soupcan: Lick it up for $5.


Steve erupts into uncontrollable vomiting once more as Soupcan stands up shaking his head.


Soupcan: Oh come on there Tom Brokaw, I haven't even told you the worst one yet. Way back in me younger days, before I was on the street I was blitzed out of me mind and I met this lass. She looked like a fine piece of ass in me drunken state so when she invited me back to her house I said yeah. We get to her place and as soon as we walk in the door her obnoxious little shit of a son kept telliing me ta' "suck his dick". I was about to bend him over me knee but she told me that he was and she would handle it. I shit ya not lad, she starts whacking away at this chimp of a boy with a frying pan then puts her cigarette out on his wee shillelagh. Then she throws the lad down the basement stairs with a bucket of fish heads, locks the basement door, then turns to me and says "there he's tucked in". So with that taken care of we start doing our thing and I make me way down to tuna town trying to get her motor runnin if ya know what I mean. I start giving her baby cannon the full O'Malley tongue service and I shit you not boyo, words can't describe how horrible her tampon tunnel tasted. I thought me tongue was about to rot off but I got the job done and got me balls drained before I finally passed out. When I woke up it became clear to me that had me way with a Warthog in human form. I think her last name was Gilvour, Gilbour, Gilfour or something like that. Either way lad, the moral of the story is I ain't worried bout no pig shit.


Sayor's really starts to gush now.


Sayors: No.....more....


With that the camera fades to black.

1x (Pawned for booze money)