I think of myself as a pretty generous guy, empathetic to the plight of my fellow man. So you can imagine my disgust when I came across this asshole who was busking and not even playing any songs.
Imagine my shock, my utter contempt, when I saw this lazy piece of shit swinging a bell around with zero sense of swing. Who even plays a bell? A bell isn’t even an instrument, it’s a medieval alert sound.
Also, I’m supposed to believe this tiny little fuck is part of an army?! Whatever army it is, I wouldn’t trust them to take over even the smallest of sovereign island nations.
So I’m minding my own business. Suddenly this turd is begging me for money. What’s worse, when I asked to hear some songs, they looked at me the way a dog looks at poetry. This has been a growing trend lately where buskers forgo playing music and just ask for money instead. Sorry, but MY generosity requires some kind of service. You gotta work for my dirtiest three coins.
I’m fuming at this point, thinking to myself “Is there no decency left in this world? Is this what Benjamin Franklin died for?” So I knocked over the stupid red can and a bunch of change spilled along the sidewalk like a wealthy renaissance Cardinal had visited. Then I grabbed the bell and snapped off the little part inside. I don’t know its name cuz it’s stupid.
I stormed off in a fury, bereft of any hope for a decent or honest America. Suddenly I heard a familiar pling-plang sound. As I rounded the corner, my eyes were greeted by the majestic sight of a crust-punk with a banjo. He was playing “I Will Dare” and fucking up half the lyrics. I gave him the only $20 I had on the spot. Without even thanking me, he immediately walked into a nearby liquor store. On difficult days like this, it’s nice to know that even a small action can make a profound difference in someone’s life.