Today I saw a homeless guy with this 12 beagles sitting outside the Walmart where I huff paint in the bathroom. It was -66° outside, so I bought his dogs some shoes. He was hunched over clutching his stomach in pain, so I also bought two barrels of pepto bismol. I was feeling a bit generous, so I went back inside and got 200 cans of chef boyardee and a Bluetooth microwave to heat them with. I bought six backpacks full of loose Gatorade and a straw to slurp from, and also a 40 pound bag of dog food for him to luff around. His drip was honestly trash so I also got a gold chain to spice up his brown aesthetic. If you’re homeless in upstate New York, you die, because of the notorious Hobo Strangler Gang. I made a difference that day. Two months later I was being robbed at gunpoint by a Jehova’s Witness, when I heard a thunderous stampede of well-dressed beagles charge the alley and eat the guys eyes. From the swarm materialized the homeless man, who was now wearing two suits and gold dentures. He now had a job as a professional bank person, all because I saved his life. Also I can do a better kick flip than God, so you tell me who’s real.