Story Time:"Bum Caked"

This is a funny little story that happened a few years ago that I thought might be mildly entertaining.

I decided to meet my little brother, who was coming in from NY, in Austin where our mother works as a housemother. We took her out to this great little steakhouse for dinner. The food was great, brother was funny and mom was happy. All was good. We ordered dessert which ended up being too much. The chocolate cake was so good I just had to take it with me. We decided to walk to our next destination, which was also downtown, when I spotted a homeless person, also known as a "crackhead", walking on the sidewalk toward us. Instead of being my normal paranoid self (big mistake), I decided to be kind and offer this man my wonderful chocolate cake leftover. I handed, with charitable hands (palms up full extension), the delectable dessert to the seeming wanting street person. The tall skinny disheveled man stared down at the polystyrene container and began to open it in a way I can only describe, as a zombie from one of those crappy movies would when ripping open your skull to reveal the brain. My "spidey sense" began to tingle as the zombie erupted into a frenzy state. My brother, being a seasoned bum watcher from NY, saw what was coming next as if he was in some type of "Matrix" sequel. The container was ripped open and the contents were pummeled in a death grip which seemed primitive to me.

As the urchin raised his cake-laden hand above his head screaming in a perfect street bum accent, "What da fuck am I gunna do wid sum mutha fuckin chocolate cake" I was frozen. My brother, on the other hand, became my mother’s secret service agent and dove in front of her as the beast brought his hand down in an uncoordinated attempt to toss the cake back at the generous person that donated it to him, ME. The cake impacted a passerby, who delivering soda to a restaurant. Shrapnel peppered my pants and shoes. We were just "bum caked". I did not have time to waste, my brother quickly grabbed up my mother, who was also going for cover while I stood in wonderment of what was unfolding. I guess I wasn't impressed with the killing power of a loaded three-layer fudge cake. I soon followed behind them, tending to my wounded pants and shoes, still in awe of what happened. Don't give zombies cake!