My petty act, but it runs in the family

Once I saved and saved to buy this really great silver thingy, and when I went to buy it the fecal-headed cuckolder of his own father who ran the shop marked it up first, telling me the price of silver went up, so he had to raise the price.

I couldn't afford it anymore, I had promised it to my beloved, and I was wanting oh so much to strangle the socially challenged dung-munching pindick, but I lacked the courage. And the strength. All I had was my brains, my degree in economics, and my deep dark cold burning for revenge.

So I got real real rich and then through dummy corporations fronted by a pair of fat hick twit brothers I cornered the world silver market.

Caused a small panic and I made billions.

Then there was the time my grampa Dietrich got pissed at some smelly loudmouth bureaucrat what lived down the way a bit. Planted a bomb in his briefcase, he did, but somehow it didn't hurt the little bugger. Lotsa guys in uniform got put down after that one, though, so Gramp said it wasn't a total loss.
(meatybrain, Sun 8 May 2005, 5:55, Reply)