Hugh G. Largestash III on the Little People

Written by Cal Jennings

Saturday, 16 June 2007

I, Hugh G. Wadmore III, gadabout, never worked a day in my life. I despise those who can't live on the interest of their interest.

I, don't know what the little people are whining about. I could eat Spam & wild dandelions like they have to, but I look SO much better eating caviar and escargot in my £3000.00 Armani suit.

They can be content living in their little studio apartments, but I'm so overburdened by the responsibility of all these people I have to entertain.

They grumble and moan about having to pay for their prescription medications, but I have to maintain a fully stocked cellar of Dom Perignon and Château Mouton Rothschild.

If they would learn to budget their money more effectively, they wouldn't be in such sad shape. If they invested in stocks and the money market like I do, instead of insisting on taking their spouses out for a steak dinner once a month to impress her, they'd be much better off. They should know that they're not of the sort of breeding to eat steak, anyway. Steaks should be reserved only for those of us in the upper crust of society, as should all decent food. Let them pick their weeds and eat the bark of trees. What do I care? I have plenty for myself and my family.

I think we should take public beaches away from them. All they do is run about half-naked and get their hormones pumping, then they go home and have more of those god-awful kids of theirs whom they cannot afford to support and send to good universities like I attended. We should buy out all the public beaches and put up condos and homes for the privileges, none of them costing less than £1.5 million so that we can let in only the right sort of people. We'd make a KILLING! Those wining, squabbling lower-class people don't deserve the beauty of the beach anyway. I'll bet half of them don't even have a Swiss bank account.

Once we have them tagged with the Verichip, it will be MUCH easier to keep tabs on them and keep them in line. Anytime one of those scallywags gets ambitious, we'll know exACTly where to send the authorities. That should put an end to their useless whimpering and wining.

Well, that's about all the time I have for now. It's nearly time for my massage and full body facial.

Yours Truly,

Hugh G. Wadmore III

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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