One day, a stranger came to town.

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He set up his shop in the market.

And he was soon open for business.

“Ladies and gentlemen, step right up and loosen your money pouches! I am Hobo Lobo, a mover, a shaker, a fraternal boilermaker, a mender of loose ends, a doer of deeds, and a sometimes indoctrinator of youth! If you have a Gordian knot that is blowing your mind, bring it here for the untying—I'll even draw you a complimentary diagram! And I will do all for super spare change—the sparest!—the change you never thought you'd ever get to spend...”

People came and brought their problems.

A large breadth of expertise comes handy in the professional renaissance journeyman line of work. If anyone could wing it, Hobo Lobo could.


It was hard work, but someone had to do it. Everyone's problems weren't gonna solve themselves.

Of course, occasionally there were things outside of Hobo Lobo's domain—but on the whole he delivered.

It was only a matter of time before his skills were noticed by the correct people.


“Providence has brought you here, my dear Lobo!” exclaimed the mayor upon spotting the Professional stand.

He explained how the rats were destroying the livelihoods of the taxpayers and that it was of paramount importance—not merely for national security, but the preservation of the Western society as they knew it—for Hamelin to be cleansed of the rat menace.


“Naturally, I don't expect heroism of such magnitude to come cheaply,” the mayor continued, “So, rest assured, my boy, an insurmountable mountain of treasure will be yours if you pull off this great feat—that and the eternal gratitude of the people of Hamelin.”

Sometimes it wasn't easy being a professional renaissance journeyman.

It was often harder being a hobo.

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Creative Commons License Almost everything here is made by a Stevan Živadinović
of some sort, or otherwise righteously stolen. Huh?