The Great Illumaniti Brotherhood wants me to join them (C) 2020
"I'll pay you back when it happens," that was supposed to be the hook to convince his father to give him money.
"You still looking for a job?" His father asked, already knowing that his son hadn't been looking. He had spoken to his son's mother, his second wife.
"Oh yea I been looking for jobs. I have an interview with Anderson Law firm." Then the son continued with another lie. "I'm going to need some money to get some nice clothes."
A few seconds later the father asked him, "Well, how much do you need?"
"Two hundred dollars."
"I'll give you fifty. Here you go, son."
"Thanks, dad." The son then quickly left the office, hearing the secretary and a client, "And there he goes."
"Is that really his son?"
"I'll show them all when it happens. I'll throw hundreds on the ground just to watch them grovel!" The son said out-loud. It was as if saying things like that would get him fortune faster. He got in his dented up Pontiac Firebird. The car that his father bought him months ago. Then the car looked almost flawless, and very shiny. The son was sure to turn up his stereo, so that his father, his staff, clients, and everyone could hear his over twenty years old cd NWA,
After the divorce, the son was quick to tell anyone who would listen, "My father can't control me now."
He decided to go by the thrift store. His buzzed logic prompted him to buy a dated black suit that was two sizes too big. He also bought a black clip on tie. He changed clothes in his car. Changing out of his two days dirty clothes. It was not a lie, he rationalized, as he paid twenty dollars for the whole outfit.
Driving in his car he noticed he didn't have many beers left, so he bought a cheap pint of Neutral Spirits Vodka from the liquor store.
"It's him again."
"Maybe, we should call the police." Two salesmen, of The Luxury Cars, talked to each other, as they saw him pull up.
"Naw, let us have fun. Thus they sent out the new salesman, Felix.
Thus Felix dashed out the doors to meet what he thought was an easy sale. He had his faced pressed against the glass of a new black sporty Mercedes Benz.
"May I help you, sir?"
"Yes, he replied, then paused to think about what he thought an important person would say.
"How many miles on this car? I have one of these beauties at my house. Letting my wife use it, now. Meanwhile, I have to use this Pontiac. The Pontiac's my, uh, uh..."
Felix smelled the pungent stench of alcohol combined with cigarette smoke and body odor. Felix's eager smile changed into a bitter disdain.
"Okay, what's your name?"
He thought for a couple seconds about what he thought an affluent man's name would be.
"My name is Sam Walton," then he reached out his hand. It was the grossest hand shake, wet and sticky.
"Okay. Mister Walton, we'll need proof of employment. This beauty, as you say, costs a minimum of seven hundred and fifty a month," Felix stated firmly.
He thought angrily, "How dare they treat me like a nobody. When it comes, I'll buy this dealership and fire this guy."
"I'm sure you understand. We'll need that paperwork, Mr. Walton."
"Of course I do. I'll have my accountant type something up."
"Well, we're about to close." Then Felix quickly walked away.
"All these people gonna know who I am!" He screamed. A couple beers, three cigarettes, and half a pint later, he was his friend Lil' D's house.
He lit his cigarette, as he stumbled up the stairs. He barely made it to D's door. Luckily, the door was open. If it hadn't been, he probably would have hit the door, then fallen down the stairs
"What's up!" He yelled. Sometimes Lil D's familiar crowd would ignore him. Most of the time, they pretended that that he was the most important person in the world, so that they could make fun of him.. Tonight, was one of those pretending nights. He never knew that they were making fun of him.
"Look who's here," one of them said.
"Stop it," the girlfriend whispered in his ear.
"It's been days. How you been?" Lil D greeted, handing him a joint.
"Spark it up dude."
"Gladly, hey, you have any beers? Man, can you believe they dissed me at Luxury Cars?" He stated.
"Dissed, what are we back in 1990? They did it again?" One of them replied.
"Yea, they all gonna know when it happens." He replied.
"You gonna light that?" D asked
"Oh yea." Then he lit the joint, and continued to tell his version of what happened.
"What's up with that fly suit?" One of them asked.
"You know. I have to look good when it happens." He said. Now he had the inspired high.
"When what happens?" D asked
"Okay I'll tell ya'll. But you have to keep it secret." He said.
"This ought to be good." One of them said.
He had the whole crowd of seven listening.
"Well, the other day, the Illuminati Brotherhood reached out to me on an Instagram message. They want me to join their organization. They told me I'll make a hundred million a year, have my own mansion, and I'll hangout with celebrities and politicians."
"We always knew you were meant for greatness." One of them said.
"Be careful." D said.
"What do you mean. Don't be jealous dude. I'll share my wealth with all of you. We will all be rich. I need y'alls help. They instructed me to pay them around a thousand dollars. We can easily afford all of this if we all pitch in."
"You still looking for a job?" His father asked, already knowing that his son hadn't been looking. He had spoken to his son's mother, his second wife.
"Oh yea I been looking for jobs. I have an interview with Anderson Law firm." Then the son continued with another lie. "I'm going to need some money to get some nice clothes."
A few seconds later the father asked him, "Well, how much do you need?"
"Two hundred dollars."
"I'll give you fifty. Here you go, son."
"Thanks, dad." The son then quickly left the office, hearing the secretary and a client, "And there he goes."
"Is that really his son?"
"I'll show them all when it happens. I'll throw hundreds on the ground just to watch them grovel!" The son said out-loud. It was as if saying things like that would get him fortune faster. He got in his dented up Pontiac Firebird. The car that his father bought him months ago. Then the car looked almost flawless, and very shiny. The son was sure to turn up his stereo, so that his father, his staff, clients, and everyone could hear his over twenty years old cd NWA,
After the divorce, the son was quick to tell anyone who would listen, "My father can't control me now."
He decided to go by the thrift store. His buzzed logic prompted him to buy a dated black suit that was two sizes too big. He also bought a black clip on tie. He changed clothes in his car. Changing out of his two days dirty clothes. It was not a lie, he rationalized, as he paid twenty dollars for the whole outfit.
Driving in his car he noticed he didn't have many beers left, so he bought a cheap pint of Neutral Spirits Vodka from the liquor store.
"It's him again."
"Maybe, we should call the police." Two salesmen, of The Luxury Cars, talked to each other, as they saw him pull up.
"Naw, let us have fun. Thus they sent out the new salesman, Felix.
Thus Felix dashed out the doors to meet what he thought was an easy sale. He had his faced pressed against the glass of a new black sporty Mercedes Benz.
"May I help you, sir?"
"Yes, he replied, then paused to think about what he thought an important person would say.
"How many miles on this car? I have one of these beauties at my house. Letting my wife use it, now. Meanwhile, I have to use this Pontiac. The Pontiac's my, uh, uh..."
Felix smelled the pungent stench of alcohol combined with cigarette smoke and body odor. Felix's eager smile changed into a bitter disdain.
"Okay, what's your name?"
He thought for a couple seconds about what he thought an affluent man's name would be.
"My name is Sam Walton," then he reached out his hand. It was the grossest hand shake, wet and sticky.
"Okay. Mister Walton, we'll need proof of employment. This beauty, as you say, costs a minimum of seven hundred and fifty a month," Felix stated firmly.
He thought angrily, "How dare they treat me like a nobody. When it comes, I'll buy this dealership and fire this guy."
"I'm sure you understand. We'll need that paperwork, Mr. Walton."
"Of course I do. I'll have my accountant type something up."
"Well, we're about to close." Then Felix quickly walked away.
"All these people gonna know who I am!" He screamed. A couple beers, three cigarettes, and half a pint later, he was his friend Lil' D's house.
He lit his cigarette, as he stumbled up the stairs. He barely made it to D's door. Luckily, the door was open. If it hadn't been, he probably would have hit the door, then fallen down the stairs
"What's up!" He yelled. Sometimes Lil D's familiar crowd would ignore him. Most of the time, they pretended that that he was the most important person in the world, so that they could make fun of him.. Tonight, was one of those pretending nights. He never knew that they were making fun of him.
"Look who's here," one of them said.
"Stop it," the girlfriend whispered in his ear.
"It's been days. How you been?" Lil D greeted, handing him a joint.
"Spark it up dude."
"Gladly, hey, you have any beers? Man, can you believe they dissed me at Luxury Cars?" He stated.
"Dissed, what are we back in 1990? They did it again?" One of them replied.
"Yea, they all gonna know when it happens." He replied.
"You gonna light that?" D asked
"Oh yea." Then he lit the joint, and continued to tell his version of what happened.
"What's up with that fly suit?" One of them asked.
"You know. I have to look good when it happens." He said. Now he had the inspired high.
"When what happens?" D asked
"Okay I'll tell ya'll. But you have to keep it secret." He said.
"This ought to be good." One of them said.
He had the whole crowd of seven listening.
"Well, the other day, the Illuminati Brotherhood reached out to me on an Instagram message. They want me to join their organization. They told me I'll make a hundred million a year, have my own mansion, and I'll hangout with celebrities and politicians."
"We always knew you were meant for greatness." One of them said.
"Be careful." D said.
"What do you mean. Don't be jealous dude. I'll share my wealth with all of you. We will all be rich. I need y'alls help. They instructed me to pay them around a thousand dollars. We can easily afford all of this if we all pitch in."
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