Congratulations on Your Amazing Corporate Heist!

Most people don’t know where the money really is in America. Turns out it’s not in the banks or the hands of the government. It’s in the offices of a handful of corporate big wigs, fat catting it up in their posh suites. That’s how they weathered the economic devastation their decision to change from clown birthday cards to balloon birthday cards wrought: by hiding their money in various surreptitious locations throughout their offices and waiting for it all to blow over.

You lost everything in that recession: your RV, the things inside your RV, your decently paying job as an RV salesman, complete with commission. But your daddy didn’t raise you to take things like that in stride, to lay down and let them walk all over you. He raised you to stand up and fight, and that’s just what you’re going to do.

At 7:30 AM this Friday morning you’re going to walk into Goldman Sachs offices in New York City. You’ll have gotten the idea from Michael Moore, but unlike his dumb ass you won’t be doing it in stretch pants and a windbreaker. You’ll be in a real fancy suit, like the one your daddy was buried in.

The security guards will see that you are impeccably dressed and holding a sack with a dollar sign on it and wave you through, assuming you’re an investment banker who is “in the know” and wants some walking around money. You’ll board an elevator with several similarly dressed men and a few secretaries with the top two buttons of their blouses undone. It will be both swank and posh, everything you ever imagined the inside of an elevator in a New York office building to be.

When you reach the top floor you’ll disembark and make your way to the CEO’s office. The real CEO’s office, not the one that Lloyd Blankfein sits his bald, fat, impotent ass in while he issues retarded proclamations to people who hate his stupid guts. This one will have a dude who looks a lot like Sam Elliot and a bunch of hookers inside. When you step in you’ll lock the door behind you and pull out your gun. The CEO will look you up and down and nod to himself.

“Looks like you bested me, boy,” he’ll say in a Southern twang you didn’t expect stepping into this big city office.

“Reckon I did,” you’ll say, spitting in a corner and nodding at one of his more attractive whores, who will smile and wink back.

“Long time coming,” he’ll say, leaning back in his chair. He’ll motion towards one of the hookers and she’ll bring out two big white bags with dollar signs on the front of them. Then he’ll nod for you to take them.

You’ll peer inside and there will be more money than you’ve ever seen before, which wasn’t a lot to start with. You’ll nod affably to him, put your gun back in your trousers and walk out, motioning for the prettiest hooker to follow you.

As you leave the CEO of Goldman Sachs will laugh affably. He’ll call in his secretary so that she can tell the Illuminati to contact the Knights Templar so that they can ask the Shadow Government what your name is. He’ll have been wowed by your go-getting attitude and want to offer you a job. But you won’t know any of this as you head out. You’ll just feel joy in your heart as your prostitute helps you carry fifty million dollars in other people’s money to the elevator so that the two of you can ride down to the ground floor and head off to the nearest corner store for some celebratory wine spritzers.

Congratulations on Your Amazing Corporate Heist!