User:Charley C.

Charley Cobbleton

A man of Greatness and Hoboness

Charlie Cobbleton, 34, born in Chicago, is definetly not a hobo. He may look, smell, and, yes, speak as such, but he is not a hobo. Sure, he wears the same tattered jeans he wore when he turned 20, and he only ever wears Authors Convention T-shirts (Out of Necessity, as he is a really bad author and so is terminally poor, too poor even to buy T-shirts), and neglects all forms of hygiene (his last bath was in 1992, when a convention offered free showers), but he is not a hobo. He is an artist. And not just any art, but the high art form of Comedy. Nonetheless, people often mistake him as such, a reality which greatly irks him. But enough about him, let me tell you how he got to Malton, so far away from Chicago or even the States...

Arrival

The tale of how Cobbleton arrived in Malton is a fascinating one, and it really deserves telling. The thought of moving to England first occured to Charley after some trouble at home. The trouble could be defined as such," Charley Wayne Cobbleton, you are NOT going to be a Hobo all your life! You need direction in your life, and need to start a family!" " But mom, I have direction! I'm 30 years old, and I'm NOT a hobo!" " *Gasp*! Insolence! Get out of My House, young man!" " I'm 30!" "OUT!!!". As you can likely tell, this was ample reason to move. He, however, and as previously mentioned, was very poor, and so couldn't hire a plane, boat, or Hot air balloon to take him across the Atlantic, and so decided to sneak aboard a boat. He found a perfect target after casing a Marina: A rubber cement hauling boat, owned and operated by a Blind-Deaf-Mute named Paul. Paul, being of the senile sort, didn't much care about a stowaway, anyway, and so Charley had his long journey in peaceful contemplation of his life, his situation, and the horrible stench being emitted from the Cargo hold.