I made 57 million dollars in six months. Yeah. More than most of you would make in five lifetimes. And It was absolutely perfect. I was a God. A british model wife having, 3 million dollar car speeding, 64 acer house living God. No i’m not royalty or an athlete or a movie star, I made it in ways you couldn't dream of actually happening. And i'm not talking about one of those shitty rich man jobs either, like a Nuclear engineer or something that will kill you at 50. No. I’m talking about the fast life ladies and gentlemen, Sales work. Now I know what you're thinking, how the hell does a plane old salesman make 57 million in a one freakin’ year. That’s just it though I wasn’t just any lame salesman, I was the best salesman. My trade was airplanes. I started my career small of course, my company would buy out full price planes and sell them for less than they were worth in a firm called Allbond Plane Investments Limited. But then I realized why be doing the job I love and make 15% of a sale while the jerkoffs on the other end who don’t really need any sweet deals are buying million dollar planes for “less than they're worth”. I was on the verge of genius and this small idea changed my life forever.
They say when you're poor you hate the rich and when you’re rich you hate the poor, well I hated the rich, more than I wanted to make money. At first I was just determined to ruin these guys lives, you know? Make them spend billions and get a crap share on a plane in return. And the plan was simple, I would find a couple of high buyers for a plane worth around 500,000 then let those hags bid it out, bid until they're freakin’ pockets broke and when they did, I’d cut their share in half in return for mine and while they’d think they're getting a new plane for 750,000 in actuality they could be spending something around 2 million dollars. The first time I did it I made half what I sold the plane for, so I made something around 900,000 dollars. And yeah it was kind of illegal but no one gave a shit the guys I was scamming were already rich anyway. And besides there money felt better in my pockets. After a while it turned into a huge thing at the firm, before I knew it everyone was selling faulty deals, it was like I set a new trend or something. And after maybe a month or two everyone at Allbond Plane Investments Limited was filthy freakin’ rich. I lost sight of my goal to make the rich miserable, I became kind of rich myself, so I started screwing over all kinds of people, rich, poor, middle class, I didn’t care, if you were willing to buy a share on a plane I was going to give you the share of a lifetime. Literally, most guys actually spent their lifetime earnings on our planes but as long as there money ended up in my pocket I was a very satisfied man. Life became lavish, and I tried to keep it under control I swear I did but it just kept getting bigger and bigger. It’s like a whole new side of me came out, I became greedy and always hungry for more money. So I decided to expand, why only sell planes? Then I thought why only sell vehicles? So I got the idea to buy out other companies, small companies and let people invest in their products and that, that’s when we really took off. The next couple of days, I have to admit, were pretty memorable. For one I married this british model I saw at an jewelry auction, the same day I met her I bought the 6th largest estate in america, the next day I bought a personal yacht named after my beautiful wife Alisa and toured to every freakin’ island I could think of a week later. While I was gone I heard it was so out of hand back at the firm that no one on the outside world knew what was going on half the time.
I started using these drugs called “Lubes” just to keep up with the days. And with the Lubes came this care free attitude, like the shit we were doing wasn’t illegal, like when you're rich everyone below you isn’t important, and they weren’t important. To me. If you weren’t on my level then you had no right to be in my presence.
We spent literally 11 months on that yacht, just me, Alisa and all our personal servants. It was hell. Turns out supermodels are really annoying. When I finally got back from my “personal” cruise, there was a little surprise at my door step. It’s like they timed it perfectly too, I swear as soon as someone gets ahead in this world there’s always that one asshole that has to bring you down. Mine was officer John, Officer Freakin’ John what kind of last name is John anyway, or “Marten Martelli John”, that’s what he calls himself. There he was, asking me if he could come in and ask a few questions and I knew that translated into “Hands behind your back you're coming with us” but I had just had a half a bag of Lubes and wasn’t really in a state to deal with anyone. Especially not the police. We were sitting on the couch and that’s when the lubes really started to kick in. It got so bad John moved to the kitchen to talk to Alisa instead of me, said I was excessively touching his face and then I fell asleep or something. When I woke up Alisa said the police told her I was going on trial for Money Laundering and Fraud and that I could spend up to 20 years in prison if I lost this case. She was packing a bag as she spoke to me, I asked where she thought she was going and closed the door. She called me a good for nothing criminal drug addict who she isn’t going to jail for. I was yelling by this point, I grabbed onto her and screamed “Of Course you leave me when I’m down, fucking slezz how could you do this to me, huh? How now!” Then I proceeded to call her names like slut, whore, hoe. She didn’t care though, she wanted out and nothing to do with me. So she tried to move me from in front of the door. Reflexively I jabbed her in the stomach, but before I could realize what I had done I ripped open my pillow case holding my secret stash of Lubes and took so many I don’t even remember the rest of that night. But I do remember her divorcing me a week later. Taking full custody of our kids and almost half my money. What ever money I had left I tried to stash away overseas in Switzerland before my trial, but that didn’t work. Turns out Switzerland has the same harboring laws as America. Eventually I had to face reality, I mean all the signs were there. I was denied bale twice, and I shit you not my million dollar Yacht freakin’ exploded, yeah exploded. Kitchen accident or something killed six people. Anyway I figured karma finally came around to bite me in the ass. And why not, money had turned me into more than a asshole I was a monster. A monster facing 20 long years in jail, so how am I talking to you all today and not doing my time. Well my good old friend officer John made me a proposal. He said I could do as little as 4 years and all I would have to do is turn in a couple of my old buddies at the firm. You know? Like the guys who helped me start the whole thing. They called it “Police Suspect Cooperation” or something. So I did it, spent four years in prison and seeked to turn my life around. My theory is all people with good money will eventually change in one way or another and those who make anything less than more will be envious of those richer. I started in the second category I envied the rich, when I became rich I changed very much so. Today I seek to find common ground between the two. I want to know if there is a gray area, you know? A middle ground. And that’s why I’m here today ladies and gentlemen, telling you my story. Because I truly believe you find the unknown in the past and through telling you this, you may not know it, but I have made you subconscious to how you will treat the next homeless man you see or that star on your favorite TV show you want to be so much. That’s one of the great wonders of the human mind though. So I leave you all with this thought, would you rather be rich or poor?