(click my face)

Mr. Manchester, Mr. to his friends dresses in only the finest clothes. He always has a suit for the right occasion, always has a glass of cognac ready for a guest, always knows about the finest in theater and the arts. This is all made more impressive by the fact that since the age of 14 when he found his mother and father fellating his pet dog “Spunky” and ran away, Mr. Manchester has been homeless and living in a shelter made of old Atari parts and empty glue sticks in front of the local dollar store where he does a little dance to the tune of “One Piece At A Time” by Johnny Cash which he hums and occasionally taps out the rhythm on his hand with a soda bottle. He met up with Cockreng and Watkins during one of these dance numbers as they approached the dollar store to purchase large amounts of defective army men with which to pelt each other. Cockreng and Watkins both remember it well:

“We both remember it well,” said Watkins and Cockreng when asked about the encounter.

Manchester was getting to the part where Johnny and his buddies put the car together, only to find out they got all the wrong parts, when Cockreng and Watkins approached, spat upon him and took the 56 cents he had collected from a week’s worth of dancing. Manchester followed them home by tying himself to their back bumper, and after several hours of repeating the phrase “Bobo no like Milk Duds” they agreed to let him stay. Mr. Manchester continues his high class ways, always having a witty comment relating to political satire, commenting on the quality of a wine or stage production. And it’s all much more interesting to listen to now that he doesn’t smell like piss. Oh, and he likes to make prank calls, a trick he picked up from a one-legged whore named Marie in front of the liqour store one night as he picked up some handi-wipes to take a shower with and some fine wine. She said that it was cheaper than her, and he agreed. And frankly, he felt ripped off. I mean c’mon… one leg? He should’ve at least gotten a discount. Who the hell is she kidding? And my nuts still itch. I swear if that skank gave me crabs….. er… uh…