The Author of this Story is Anonymous/Unknown. This is the seventy-fourth CreepyPasta that was narrated by DaveTheUseless.
There once was an old man who lived all alone on top of a hill. Every Wednesday and Sunday, the garbagemen came to collect trash from every house in the town. Every time they came to the old man's house, he would have no garbage for the garbagemen. Not even recyclables. The old man always said the same thing to them when they came to his house: "Sorry, he got hungry again." The garbagemen just drove away, thinking the old man had a dog or that he ate the trash himself. The experienced garbagemen always knew that he wouldn't have trash, but their job required them to go to every house, so they would stop, look for the cans (that were never there), and move along. But, one ordinary Sunday morning, a rookie who was in to intimidating people got so annoyed at the man, he went in to his backyard, determined to find the trash that "he was dumping in the trees behind his house". To the rookie's amazement, there was no trash. Not a single scrap. The rookie started yelling at the man, asking where the trash was. The rookie's crew was trying to tell him that there was none, but he wouldn't listen. The old man started to back away into his house, but the rookie grabbed the man by the arms and threw him aside.
"Now, I bet you fed your dog all the trash, even the plastics. What kind of sick person are you?"
The rookie went inside the old man's house and looked around. The walls were spotless. The floors had not a single crumb upon them. The tables were dustless. The house was as sterile as could be. The rookie looked for a dog bed, and anything dog related, but he found nothing. The rookie then dragged the old man into his house and stood him up.
"I bet you dug holes down in the basement, holes so deep that they can hold all of your trash."
The rookie stormed down into the old man's basement. The old man followed behind. The rookie flicked the lightswitch to ON.
Nothing but a concrete floor, a single tin trashcan, a water heater, and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.
"Hmm... Hey. I bet the can is covering the hole. How about we find out."
"NO! You do not want to do that!" the old man suddenly belted out.
"What if I do? Who's going to stop me. You certainly won't."
The rookie took a step towards the can. A slight hum filled the basement.
"Oh no. You've done yourself in now! You should have listened." said the old man as he quickly ran up the stairs, locking the door to the basement behind him.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going, old man! Come back here!"
The rookie took a step towards the door of the basement. The hum subsided. The rookie turned back to the can. He took a step towards the can. The can began humming again. The rookie took another step. The hum grew louder. Another step. From the can, sounds of cogs and gears grinding was heard. The rookie took another step, placing him only one more step away from the can. He looked towards the back of the can, thinking it was plugged in to an outlet, but no power cord was visible. As he was looking, the can started to sputter and cough. Finally, the rookie took one more step towards the can. All noise stopped. The basement was silent. The rookie breathed a sigh of relief. He proceeded to take the lid off of the can.
There once was an old man who lived all alone on top of a hill. Every Wednesday and Sunday, the garbagemen came to collect trash from every house in the town. Every time they came to the old man's house, he would have no garbage for the garbagemen. Not even recyclables. The old man always said the same thing to them when they came to his house: "Sorry, he got hungry again."
However, today was a different day. Today, the garbagemen came and noticed that a tin trashcan was sitting out in front of the old man's house. The old man was no where to be found.
"That's strange," said one of the garbagemen. The garbageman got off of the truck and walked towards the can. He picked it up. It was so heavy, he needed his partner's help, and he needed the driver's help. Struggling to get the can off of the ground, the men stopped.
"Hey, what the hell is in this thing?" said one of the garbagemen. He took off the lid and saw rusty gears and cogs sitting on top of clothes.
"What the...This doesn't belong in the trash..."
The garbageman reached into the can and pulled the clothes out from the bottom. He held a garbageman uniform and a bright orange vest up.