It Ain't Easy Bein' Green [Grubby Work Thread]

So's I gots me a better way a gettin' income now, an' it ain't fuggen degradin' like dressin' up like some sexually confused gnome an' paradin' 'round the block in jinglin' pants. Ain't doin' that shit twice I fuggen tells ya. Nah, so get a load a this, there are motherfuckers out there that'll pay a good wage what if ya bring'em trash they can use. Call it "recyclin'". Now I ain't know what this shit's gotta do with no bicycles but I ain't complainin'. Slums is already fulla bullshit, might as well see what kinda money I can make outta it. So I'm down there shufflin' through the shit that people ain't want no more, got me a good burlap sack and I'm pickin' up cans in the gutter. Shit's easier'n a fuggen city elf I tell ya what. Not so good on my back though, but I got a solution fer that shit too. Found me a rusty nail what I tied on the end of this here stick, lets me stab them cans an' put'em in the sack, don't even gotta bend my knees. You believe that shit? I'm about to get paid fer this damn stuff, easiest Vee See I ever did make bucko. Now I'm just strollin' along the street there, puffin' on my pipe, sneak attackin' trash an' whatnot, havin' a grand ol' time. Sacks gettin' kinda full but I gots a fix fer that one too. I found me some'a them round bin lids an' ran another couple'a sticks threw them too, jerry-rigged it on a crate an' I got maself a wagon. Can cart three or four a them sacks now. Work smarter not harder, ya understand?

Figured I wouldn't be the only one neither. I be gettin' dirty looks again, but this is the Slums motherfucker. These looks ain't comin' from no high brow hoity toighty jagoffs what with their forks fer their salads an' their belts ain't bein' made a fuggen rope an' shit. Nah, nah... these be some hardened motherfuckers shootin' me the stink eye. Not the punks neither. Scraggly damn bastards with beards, clothes lookin' shittier'n mine if ya can fuggen believe it. I stare at'em back an' keep on doin' what I'm doin', blowin' smoke rings outta my damn pipe. I ain't ever let assholes stop me, I ain't scared'a shit. But I get on guard, got a good feelin' I'm gonna get jumped. Few more minutes, 'bout a dozen more cans or so an' I get stopped. Good four'a them smelly shit stains standin' in my way. Now I ain't one to start no fuggen fights but I'll sure as shit finish'em, I'll tell ya that fuggen much.
"Ya make a pretty damn good fence, how 'bout makin' a gate instead?" I says to'em. They don't even move, ain't even say nothin'. I grip my pokin' stick just a 'lil harder.
"What, ya hard a hearin' with yer heads up yer asses? Move it or fuggen lose it."
"You plannin' on sharin' some'a that tin there, 'lil man?" The one on the left talks first an' I ain't like his tone. I take a puff of my pipe an' blow it straight in that motherfucker's face. Now anyone knows down here them's fightin' words. I don't give a shit, I'll send all these piss pots packin'.
"Momma taught me never to share with no lazy fuckwits what don't help with the work. Guess yer outta luck, Chuck."
"I don't think ya know how we do the can runs down here, short stack. We're all in this together, ya know? Better play nice."
"Sorry there buddy. You motherfuckers are in this together, I'm on my fuggen own here. I ain't get my rope tugged so I ain't givin' no reach around. Now move 'fore ya piss me off ya ball-lickin' mutts."

Then they get to doin' that thing I don't like. The fuggen Circle'a Fuck You. You know it is, what where they start walkin' 'round ya, tryin' to be intimidatin'. This ain't my first shindig, boys an' girls. I'm thinkin' I'm about to address my foot to some asses, express post.
"Now we can't have that. Everyone down here's gotta eat, just like you do. Can't have one selfish bastard takin' all the cans, you understand. So why don't you hand over a bag? Be a pal and donate to the hungry?" I'm gettin' that damn tinglin' at the back a my neck now. Shit's about to get real fuggen interestin'. I slap my pipe cross my arm to shake out the embers, put it back in my pouch there.
"Tell ya what. Why don't you bend the fuck down, real deep like, an' kiss the greenest part'a my-" I ain't get through what I was sayin', motherfucker from behind me tries to grab me. But I see it comin' so I pitch forward on a hand an' turn with mah whoopass stick. Catch that motherfucker right across the jaw with it. He goes stumblin' back when the other asshole to my right grabs me from behind an' picks me up. Another asshole lands one on my face but I don't fuggen care, it don't break nothin', just bloody my nose a bit. He don't grab my arms so's I flip over the asshole holdin' me just as another punch is comin'. Dumb motherfucker decks his buddy right in the damn schnoz. I take my opportunity while he's stumblin' there to crouch behind him, make'im trip over me, then I punch him straight in the damn throat. Once more to the damn face to break his damn nose, fuggen prick. As the other ones rush me I slide underneath one of'em an' pick up my pokin' stick. I punch it forwards and catch one of'em straight in the gut with it. Then I yank it up, break off the nail in his belly. Ol' Grubby ain't fuggen playin' no damn games, nosir.

"YYEEAAACH! Ah-h! MmmnnNNRRGH FUCK!" he starts screamin' as he's rollin' around on the ground there. I hold up my stick in front'a me, their holdin' back til one of'em gets smart an' tries to go fer me again. I pitch forward again an' hold the broken end'a the stick out, catch that motherfucker right in the balls with it. Now brother that hurt me to do to a guy, pretty sure I done ripped his sack open but I ain't showin' no mercy. I'll kill everyone here if they gimme no choice. He screams like a bitch an' falls to his knees holdin' what's left a his junk.
"I ain't want no gatdamn trouble, ya hear...?" I growl at'em, pointin' my bloody stick forwards, "But if you dumb motherfuckers keep this shit up I'm gonna start aimin' fer throats an' you ain't gettin' back up again." Stupid jagoffs get the hint an' take off runnin', at least three of'em. The left one guy behind, the guy who's marble back I broke. He's layin' on the ground there wailin' an' screamin' an' cryin' like a bitch. I kick'im over, outta the way a my wagon. Then the people starts comin' back outta the woodwork what from hidin' when the fight started.
"Anyone here a humanitarian better call fer some fuggen help fer this guy!" I calls out. Then I lean down over the guy what's chokin' on his snot. I grumble in his ear just so's he can hear me.
"Ya got what was fuggen comin' to ya, asshole. You live with what you did, ya fuggen did it to yer damn self." I says. Then I saddle up my wagon an' I calmly walk down the fuggen street. Think I'm done collectin' trash fer one day. I ain't wanna break off my foot in no more asses, ain't worth the damn hassle. Safe to say I earned what I'm gonna make from rebicyclin' these here cans, it better be worth the fuggen trouble I went through.