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Chris MacBeth · (09-05-2013)

Chicago My Love, A homeless Story

It’s exciting times for the people of the XWF, well not the people whop run the show, these times are about to get very god damn annoying for them people. It’s about time they stepped aside and let The Brotherhood take over if you ask me and I will tell you something else, Just ask Chicago’s very own child, Chris Macbeth would agree with me as well.

Who am I? It doesn’t really matter but if you insist on knowing, I am just a guy stood here on Navy Pier just outside Bubba Gump’s Shrimp Factory. Man I loved this city. I mean look at that skyline. Everyone worldwide raves about the wonders of New York, The Big Apple, and The Concrete Jungle that dreams are made of, but I say, Fuck that... I have been to New York but it has nothing on the almost perfectness that is Chicago, Illinois.

I Mean shit, we have the Blues Brothers, The Deep Dish Pizza, The Bulls and the Blackhawks.

LET’S GO BLACKHAWKS, LETS GO.

We have the Cubs playing there hearts out at the famous Wrigley Field, The White socks and the Giants. Chicago is also the home of CM Punk, Lex Lugar, any many other greats. What a town I am sure you would agree.

Apart from that though, it doesn’t matter who I am. I am not here to talk about myself, I am not here to talk about Chicago, I am here to ask for a small donation to help fund my pretty hardcore drug habit and maybe even find me some shelter tonight, for I am a homeless man, living on the streets for four years. I know I could be worse off, if you had to live on the streets you would always pick the streets of this marvellous town of ours. So please if you can find it in your heart to spare a fellow Chicagoan some change and you will be bless with the sound of the blues for the rest of your life.

Much Love people.

Most people ignored the poor, homeless guy who day in day out would move around the pier trying to spread the joys of this wonderful city for just a few Dollars but occasionally he would grab some body’s attention. This time it was a slightly overweight, bald headed guy who was wearing a t-shirt that was to small for him and a pair of three quarter length jean shorts and trainers. He had a can of beer in his hand and with a slight stumble he approached the proud Chicago bum.

The poor guy’s eyes lit up when he saw this slightly drunk man approaching with his hand rustling around for change in his pocket. The homeless guy looks up as the obviously better off than he was guy stands above him and pulls his hand out of his pocket and proceeds to flick the bird at the poor beggar.

”I’m not from Chicago bitch, I’m a tourist, stop ruining my holiday.”

He then pours his half empty can of beer over the head of the bum and walks away. This though was a blessing in disguise. Although our proud but poor Chicagoan has been humiliated in front of everyone on the pier, it did not make people notice him, and you wouldn’t believe how quickly his flat cap filled up with change, it was mainly change anyway but even a five dollar bill found its way into that scruff, ripped hat.

For the rest of the day, word of mouth had spread that this horrible British I think it was tourist had violated the nice Chicago loving hobo on the pier and the lucky little hobo had earned himself more sympathy cash than he had had rat bites in the past four years he had been on the streets. For your information, don’t steal a rats food if he has done all the hard work to go out hunting for it and has spent sometime dragging it back down the side street you both call home, no seriously don’t the rats don’t like it.

There was the one time when a rat had found some sort of half eaten French fry and had dragged it all the way down the ally and was about to tuck in when the friendly neighbouring hobo had picked the fry up and eaten it before the rat had even got his dinner jacket on. (So to speak) Anyway the rat was annoyed but didn’t let on to the hobo, the only time the homeless guy had realised he had upset the pour rat was when he awoke in excruciating pain as the rat was biting and chewing on the flesh of his belly, literally trying to eat hits way inside of him to get to the fry he had worked so hard to bring home for himself...

TRUE STORY!

Honest

Mac-Daddy is Back Daddy.

Holey cow I cannot believe someone could actually eat and drink themselves to death in one night....

Chris Macbeth is sat on the bus reading the local news paper. He has just read story of a guy who had been living on the streets for a few years, here in Chicago. He had suddenly come across a lot of money and then blew the entire lot on food and booze, all in one night. The article doesn’t say the exact amount of cash that was being thrown around by this homeless Chicagoan but there was enough there for him to over indulge himself so much that he never awoke the next day.

”It say’s here that because he had hardly eaten or drank for the past four years on the streets, his stomach had shrunk. He then ate and drank so much in this short amount of time that when he finally fell asleep he basically drowned himself.... This is nuts.”

Macbeth closes the paper up as the bus approaches his stop. He slaps the stop button and the driver pulls over and opens up the doors. Macbeth gets up from his seat living the paper behind him and exits the bus and enters his apartment block on West Irving Park and presses the button for the elevator.

It had been a few weeks since Macbeth had unmasked himself at the castle of demons and Nightmare had assisted him with his escape. Everything from under the mask was now just a blurry distant memory but an important one to keep. When he witnessed Nightmare murder the powers right in front of him he vowed to never do anything to bad within his life that could lead him back into the same situation he was with Nightmare and the Powers. Nightmare had of course tried to ease his mind buy insisting that he and the powers were the only ones of there type, the only ones in the world or universe who would haunt peoples dream with the mission of making them serve justice for the sins that the real world had failed in finding them guilty for. Macbeth wasn’t sure but he took Nightmare’s word for it.

The elevator finally reaches the ground floor and a bell rings before the doors slowly slide open. He steps into the generic apartment block elevator with crap elevator music playing out of the speakers, one of which is damaged and can hardly be heard and the other also being damaged but being to loud to really withstand.

Macbeth had recently returned back to the XWF. This is something he is very exited about. Nightmare had been against the idea originally, worrying that he had been out of the game for too long to be able to handle himself. Macbeth had eased Nightmares concerns though by switching himself over to the Monday Night Madness show rather than the Wednesday Night show he had previously occupied before he had been taken from that roof in Las Vegas by his now friend. Although Macbeth new he didn’t need it he thought by moving to Madness it would make Nightmare think he could keep a lookout over him which in turn would make the monster agree to Macbeth’s return.

Macbeths not just a pretty face you know he is smart too.

The lift finally gets to his floor and the doors slide open and Macbeth can finally leave the crap lift music behind for a few hours. Sometimes he really considers heading down the outside fire escape to leave the building the music is that awful.

He enters his apartment and notices the red light flashing on his phone. He has a message. As he passes he clicks the button and the recorded message begins to play out.

Chris, its Steve Sayors from the XWF. I was hoping to catch you to get some words from you regarding your return and your up and coming triple threat match against Troy Turner and Casey Jones on Monday Night Madness. Call me...

Macbeth smiles as he lights up a cigarette and takes a seat.

”Stupid moron Steve. He didn’t even leave me a number to call.”

[Image: tumblr_m9w1mlEMn81r4z8l1o1_500.jpg]

[Image: tumblr_m9w1mlEMn81r4z8l1o1_500.jpg]

Macbeth takes a drag of his cigarette and sits back thinking of how on earth someone can eat so much in one night that they actually die. ”I wonder if he ate so much he exploded?” He thinks to himself.

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