*Luis Alvarado makes his way into the arena and begins shaking hands with the employees there*
Luis Alvarado: Hey Tim how's it hanging? Shawn did you get that limp checked out?
*As Luis continues greeting the workers he notices a familiar man mopping the floor*
Luis Alvarado: Wait a minute, don't I know you?
Janitor: No you don't.
*The janitor turns away from Luis*
Luis Alvarado: Yes, It's starting to come back to me.
*Luis gets in front of the janitor*
Luis Alvarado: The greasy beard, the stained shirt and the ankle bracelet. Why it's none other than!
*The janitor puts his hand over Luis's mouth*
Janitor: Don't say my name out loud, I don't want people to know that I've succumb to this level.
Luis Alvarado: Man, I guess getting arrested really messed with your resume. How's the poetry coming along?
Janitor: Would you like to hear some?
Luis Alvarado: Sure my smelly friend.
*The Janitor pulls out a tiny book from his pocket with the title saying The Book of . . . . the last part is scratched out. He opens it and begins to read*
Janitor: He who calls no place his home,
He who knows no soul but his own...
He who walks forever alone,
He who lives against the mold...
*Luis begins to doze off*
Janitor: So, what do ya think of that one.
*He noticed that Luis fell asleep*
Janitor: Hey wake up you little slug!
*Luis snaps awake*
Luis Alvarado: I forgot I could sleep standing up, thanks for reminding me I could do that.
Janitor: Did you even hear the poem?
Luis Alvarado: Yeah. . .
Janitor: Well, What did I say?
Luis Alvarado: Uh, He who calls no place his home.
Surrounded by bars of chrome.
Got sent home on house arrest.
Now he cleans toilets for the rest.
Was that your poem?
*The janitor's face is as red as a tomato at this point*
Janitor: Please leave Luis before I do something I regret.
Luis Alvarado: Regret as in getting arrested again or having to clean up someone else's number 2?
*The janitor swings his mop at Luis who dodges and runs off to his locker room while giggling to himself.*
Janitor: Little bastard.
