In a rusty old truck, with a dented old door,
Lived a man full of rage, yet lazy at core.
He’d ride through the town, his horn blaring loud,
Yelling at workers, all smug and so proud.

"Get a real job!" he’d scream at their backs,
While Mommy still covered his gas and his snacks.
No shifts, no labor, no sweat on his brow,
Yet he judged every worker he’d ever allow.

The county, he swore, was a thief in the night,
Taking his taxes, oh what a plight!
Yet roads were repaved and the snow was all cleared,
While he sat at home, drinking cheap canned beer.

One day, oh, one day, his rage met its match,
Unbeknownst to him, that worker was no regular catch.
Green Truck Man, fuming and bitter inside,
Sped up and swerved, all puffed up with pride.

"Get a real job! Learn how to drive!" he sneered,
Oblivious to debts he refused to clear.
He thought he was clever, he thought he was tough,
But soon he would learn that enough was enough.

A report was filed, a warning was clear,
But Green Truck Man refused to hear.
He spotted that worker once more in town,
And hurled his coffee, a scalding brown.

But that wasn't just any worker, you see,
He had government clearance, high as can be.
Green Truck Man had sealed his fate,
By harassing an agent of the secret state.

When the cops arrived with federal might,
He screamed, "You're corrupt! This isn’t right!"
Yet cuffs met wrists, his luck wore thin,
And off to the cell, they hauled him in.

With charges to face and no one to save,
Mommy arrived, furious and grave.
"You idiot son, you absolute fool!
You're nothing but an arrogant tool!"

But did he learn? Oh no, not a chance.
He doubled back down, still stuck in his stance.
So back in his truck, with rage burning bright,
He honked at the workers. Oh, what a sight!

Yet fate had more fun in store for this clown,
When a lawsuit arrived that would take the fool down.
He’d screamed at a clerk and called her some names,
And now she was suing. Oh, legal games!

Then one day, oh boy, came a knock at his door,
A letter from the county. He owed even more.
His taxes unpaid, his debts stacked so high,
"Pay up," it read, "or kiss your property goodbye!"

Mommy was livid, her patience now thin.
"You useless old fool, you're not moving in!"
With no place to go, no money, no plan,
He wandered the streets, a defeated old man.

With no job, no savings, and Mommy now mad,
Green Truck Man had it real, real bad.
His house got seized, his credit was fried,
And that smug little smirk had finally died.

So next time you hear a horn blaring in town,

Check for a man with a permanent frown.

Don’t bite the hand that paves the road you broke.

Let gratitude speak louder than the nonsense you spoke.

And if you should spot him, no house and no cash,

Wandering sidewalks, collecting up trash,

Just give him a wave, a grin, and a cheer,

For Green Truck Man’s now a worker. Oh, my dear!