"Are we traveling minstrels now, guys?" I asked.

"Out of my way, Tyler!" Mark said. "This beer is dying! If it doesn't get placed on cold, cold ice right now…well, I won't be responsible for whatever happens…."

I sighed. I had been planning on watching the Henry Winkler movie marathon on the WB, that afternoon. "Fine. Come on up."

"Is there a KFC around here?" Karl asked, as we walked up the five long flights to my apartment.

"Yup. Four blocks."

Karl stopped to wheeze on the landing outside my apartment. "Do…do they deliver?"

"Karl, it's four blocks away…"

"But it felt like five blocks, just coming up the stairs…"

Mark shoved past the two of us, and headed into my kitchenette, and flung open the freezer door. "Ice! Ice! We need ice, dammit!" He took out a number of cans and shoved them in the freezer. "This will do, while we begin planning. You guys are going to have to head out, though, and get more ice. Ice, and…I heard mention of a KFC…"

Karl was leaning heavily on the shelves that hold my drinking glasses and plates. "I…I have to go all the way back down there?"

I nodded. "Yeah. And you're carrying the ice."

Two hours, and a number of rests on stair landings later, we were back. Mark had the TV blasting, as Henry Winkler's Gorgeous George bio-pic "The One and Only" rolled. It was one of the many wonderful scenes with Herve Villechaze. God bless that little man…

"Tribute!" Mark bellowed, sitting up on my daybed. "I demand tribute! Bring me chicken! Bring me beer!"

"Get it your own damn self, Nero," I said. I took an extraordinarily frosty can of beer out of the freezer, and put the rest of them in a cooler with the ice. Most of it had melted during our long walk back.

Mark rose from the chaise and selected some dark meat from the bucket. "You only got one bucket? This won't be anywhere near enough drumsticks. I need them for wild, fattening gesticulations, you know…"

I gorged on chicken and sipped at my beer. I noticed a pile of empty cans near the television set. "So, what is the meaning of today's appearance, gentlemen? What are we working on?"

"Well," Karl said, his mouth full of wings, "we've got Mark's charm down…we've even got some issues to talk about…"

"We do?" Karl asked. His eyebrows peaked, as he tore into a thigh.

"Well, some," Karl said. "I mean, there's the war, right?"

"There still is?" Mark asked. "It hasn't been on TV as much…"

"Wow," Karl mouthed. He cleared his throat of a bone or large chunk of meat and continued. "Anyway, I was getting on a bus up in Massachusetts last week, and there was this guy standing there shaking hands. He was running for office. He was a real operator. Really knew what he was doing. And he had this band with him, and they…"

"That reminds me," said Mark, "How'd we do on midterm elections?"

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Did we gain any seats in the House or anything? The hobo party I mean," Mark said.

"Mark," Karl said, "You're our only candidate."

Mark nodded. "So, I'm still fighting an uphill battle, huh?"

I put my greasy hand on Mark's shoulder. "You always will be, buddy. You always will be."

Karl cleared his throat again. This time, seemingly, for effect. "Well, we'll see about that after I crack out the old gee-tar, huh?"

"We're going to have a singalong?" I asked.

"Nah," Karl said. "I wrote a theme song."

"For the campaign?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," Karl said, as he strapped on his harmonica-holder. "Think Bruce Springsteen while I sing this, huh guys?"

Karl began strumming chords, blowing the harmonica, and shaking his head. He tossed in a couple of Springsteenian growls for good measure, and then bellowed:

Can't you hear 'em talkin'
From Hartford to Greenwich to Lyme
About that Hugo fella's life
Of brutal truth and crime.

"Here comes the chorus," said Mark.

He's a powerful, powerful man
Drinks beer from a powerful, powerful can

Mark joined in on the "man's" and "can's" with gusto, shaking a fresh can of PBR for emphasis.

Can't you see 'em walking
Single file up that Sandy Hook hill
To drink Pabst Blue Rribbon with rabbit blood
searching the woods for demons to kill.

"Rabbit blood?" I asked Mark. "Demons?"

Mark nodded. "Don't you remember that party that one…oh, I'll tell you about it some time… This is the good part!"

He's a powerful, powerful man
Drinks beer from a powerful, powerful can

Can't you see 'em driving
In packs to the Blue Colony Diner
To seem him down fries and braised pygmy thighs
And hold forth on the evils of Shriners

Karl worked away at the harmonica, with an untalented Dylan-esque wail.

Some of it is bullshit, but most folks get it right.
He DID disinter that famous man's corpse
and sled with it down his driveway in the frozen night
He DID appear in court in a flak vest and some socks
and after his acquittal, stoned the DA's house with rocks
He DID abscond with that Chili's waitress up to Northern Maine Dynamite fishing and swigging J.D. and playing naked rummy in the rain.

A vein pulsed in Karl's head as Mark began singing along, too.

He's a powerful, powerful man
Drinks beer from a powerful, powerful can

"Powerful!" screamed Karl.

"PowerFUL!" yelled Mark.

"Powerful!" screamed Karl.

"PowerFUL!" yelled Mark.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" yelled my neighbor from across the street.

Karl stopped strumming and whispered the closing of the song:

Mark Hugo'll do most anything to keep his fever dreams alive ...and if you ask him his plan he'll dust off another PBR can And say, "I'll drink and you drive."

It wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all. It was no "Jailhouse Rock", but it might catch on. Practice it, boys and girls. Practice it with gusto. There'll be a test at the winter political convention. The location is yet to be determined. It sure as hell ain't gonna be my apartment. Somehow, we always run out of ice.

THE MARK HUGO ARCHIVE
The Article That Started it All - Mark's Gubernatorial Campaign Announcement.

Bad Night in The Bunker - Strategy Gone Awry.

Strike A Pose - Image Consultancy in the Post-Carville Era.

An All Time Low.

A Tape Transcript.

Mark's Gubernatorial Concession Speech.

The Beginnings of Mark's Presidential Campaign.

Angry Sports, Elmer Gantry, and Freedom Fries.

Orange Alert, Again.

Mermaid Parade Invitational.

American Idols.

The First Parade.

Independence Day.

California Dreamin'.

Where Do You Go When the Lights Go Out?

DER GOVERNATORRR!

the dossiers...

Please email your support and suggestions to: tyler@greathoboes.com. Remember, vote early, and vote often!

Tyler M. Carey
Publisher and Editor-in-Chief, The Great Hoboes of New York
Apparent Campaign Manager, Mark Hugo for President '04 Campaign