So I had just finished eating my sandwich when this putrid odor wafted into the room. I very nearly threw up, but so determined was I not to lose the delicious contents of my stomach that I held it down. I looked for the source of the offensive smell. It seemed to be eminating from the basement, so I grabbed my handy dandy flashlight and went to check it out. I opened the door to see a Dirty Hobo standing on the stair. He smelled foul and was missing limbs. I immediatly shut the door and went upstairs to grab the one thing I knew could deal with a Undead Hobo better than a brain sandwich. My Galvanized Steel Pipe. I went Back downstairs and opened the basement door. The undead hobo groaned and lumbered toward me, its jaw agape and its hands reaching forth for my Brain-change in my head. Fortunatly I had dealt with live angry hobos, so dead angry hobos were no problem. A few quick whacks to the head dispatched it easily. I shut the door as it tumbled into the dark of my basement. I went back into the kitchen to fix myself a drink, for my epic Hobo-zombie showdown had left me with a thirst only water could quench. As I walked over to the sink I saw an open copy of "Twilight" on the counter. I promptly threw up into the sink.