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Silly Prole; Food is for Billionaires!
A short satire for modern times.
You have some nerve entering my cavernous estate before dawn, carrying your little pitchforks and clubs. Such a kerfuffle has spooked Alister, my prized woolly mammoth clone. I sure hope that he does not lose any flavour after such a scare! The poor thing.
Food? Is that what this is all about? Twenty three dollars American for a carton of eggs is absolutely affordable, if I say so myself. If I could purchase a senator or a member of parliament for such a modest price, do you not think for a moment that I would do so? The things that upset you poors these days…
Money is tight all around! Why, I had to lay off twelve thousand of my unnecessary staff just last week so that I could get a new yacht. My old one was damp and smelled of salt, you see; completely unusable! Your attention: please do not be traipsing your mud and other foulness about the authentic Byzantine mosaics adorning my floors; those are priceless antiquities and they certainly aren’t making them anymore!
Perhaps, then, you should consider the following: food is for people like me and not for silly proles! We are creating a future for humanity among the stars, and that means that some of you must go without today to ensure the cosmos for our great, great, great grandchildren. At least mine, anyway. When you look at it like this, does it not seem so infinitesimal to be griping about the price of food? Just buy yourself a farm and grow it yourself, or however these things come about.
I say, get that guillotine out of here. You’re going to knock over all my looted pottery from the Han Dynasty. What gall!
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