I awoke to the sound of music. Wub wub it went. I heard a man shouting "This is wear the mosh begins lads." I had to get away from this mess. It was probably being illegally played through Spotify. I left the building and looked at my pocket watch. It was 12:45, and I had 15 minutes to get to the Rays game on time.
When I arrived a strange man offered me some coffee, whilst holding on to a warm pipe. As I drank the beverage and some pre-purchased confectionery, a slightly plump man approached me. He screamed "Butt Scratcher, Butt Scratcher." I approached, asking him "What's wrong with my hand?" He told me his butt scratcher did not have limits to its power and that he wanted to share them with the world. A nearby bystander captured a video of this strange man at work.
He was committed to his work to eradicate itchy butts, however, sadly passed when a butt scratcher slipped into his mouth, and continued to further enter his body. As his only true friend, I was the one to inherit his business and become the next Butt Scratcher salesman.
Nowadays I live out in Los Angeles, still in the same trade, spreading joy to those who come. Every now and then someone doesn't buy one, but then again, they're the ones losing out. One day at work I was shouting the usual, when an officer came up to me. I was informed that for the past 3 years, I had been illegally dealing, as I did not have the correct paperwork. I was banned from any MLB games and so had to retire from this pursuit. Now I work in a different field. I would be on children's TV.
