Lars had no job.
Lars had no money.
Lars had no home.
Lars had no parents.
Lars had no car.
Lars had no hope.

What Lars did have, was an asshole brother who had stuck him in a mental institution a year ago.
That, and a broken rib.

The rib he got from jumping out the third story window at St. John’s, the brother, well, you know where babies come from.

Actually, he was lucky he only got a broken rib. It was a pretty nasty fall, luckily he had landed in bushes. He felt bad about ruining the nice bushes, but hey, he was fifty. It was time to quit fuckin’ around and go live a real life.