Today you’re a white collar criminal who manufactures financial frauds like most people brew coffee: frequently and with little consistency. You’re good at it overall though. Even if all your frauds aren’t billion dollar ideas they’re still pretty solid examples of how to ruin the middle class in America while padding your own pockets.
So there’s no reason for you to be financially insolvent, ever. Spare one crucial flaw in your plan: you like to do all your evil financiering with a luchador mask on.
“Why the mask?” your hooker will ask.
“To hide my face from the public!” you’ll say before chortling as she pounds you in the ass.
“Isn’t it kind of obvious?” your protégé will ask as the two of you are pounded in the ass by hookers while having weed smoke blown in your faces by young Thai boys.
“The better to hide in plain sight!” you’ll wink before turning over so that you can make eye contact with your hooker, who will sort of just look sad.
“That’s incredibly stupid,” the FBI agent will say as he places handcuffs upon you so that he can lead you out of your office while your co-workers look on, quite literally caught red-handed, wearing a luchador mask while cooking the books.
“You’ll never take me alive, copper!” you’ll shout over your shoulder back at him. This will make him purposefully bang your head into a door while he leads you out, giving him a glimmer of satisfaction in the work he has achieved for the day.
At the court hearing, however, they’ll refuse to let you wear the mask. It will sit a few feet away, at an evidence table, but it might as well be on another planet. You’ll be naked, without the greatest source of your confidence. You’ll feel like a cuckold.
Congratulations on Being Foiled!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment