December 1, 2008
At home auctions, no longer do bargain hunters need to bid on charming Tudors where “Barry the Butcher” had a walk-in freezer. Yep, foreclosures are the order of the day and everywhere people are waking up from their American Dream to find that, like lookers at a brothel, they’re all gonna get screwed.
During these difficult economic times, with people ousted from their homes and cracking open nest eggs to make omelets, it seems the only people doing booming business these days are movers.
Movers have been kept very busy of late, as have their maligned cousins, repo men, the key distinction between them is that the former move your belongings to your residence, while the latter move them to undisclosed location with you in close pursuit, screaming epithets out the window of your car–if it’s not repossessed that is—until the law is called for backup. [Editor's note: if you have to move all of your earthly belongings into storage, you're likely not someone who requires the assistance of a mover]
There are few vocations more despised than repo men. Sure, there are Department of Motor Vehicle employees, who, with one strike of their pen, can doom you to the city bus and we’re fairly certain enough has been said about lawyers to exempt them from further discussion (we’ll steer clear of journalists too, given that the economic circumstances of late, means it’s become increasingly difficult for them to finance a lifestyle of heavy boozing).
Proving that the recession is indeed a global phenomenon, a retired septuagenarian Australian boxer was stocking the fridge of family friends (say that three times fast and you’ll annoy everyone within earshot) when he found out just how miserable repo men can be as mortgage financiers turned up to repossess his friends’ belongings.
Shoving the female half of the couple aside, one of the repo guys, “25 at most and built like front-row footballers”, according to witness accounts (physical prowess is never exaggerated when relaying the details of a good punch up, as The Shark Guys found out when we recently bested the Michigan State wrestling team who were running their mouths in a local bar) told the aged pugilist to “get out of the way, you silly old goat”. The old puncher, with brick hands, dropped his assailant like a sack of Yukon Golds.
According to reports the heroic Trevor ‘the Smiler’ King, whose upside down frown had been turned the other way around due to a weak heart and leukemia said the fallen man’s co-worker then repeatedly punched him in the stomach, but his fist “bounced off his rock-hard abdominal muscles”.
For all we know his antagonists might well have been clubbed footed midgets and King senile but, nonetheless we salute this tough-as-nails cacker (from a distance of course)
Earlier this year, we covered the story of a drunk who decided to take on a pro boxing coach, with similar results.
