Today a bunch of four-foot tall snot rockets barged into my office with absolutely no warning. The tallest one of them stepped to the front and just started screaming at me. Sure, I may be a 34-year-old billionaire sitting atop what is quite possibly the greatest child labor operation this side of the Gilded Age, but I feared for my life.
They made a slew of outrageous demands, calling for downright radical concepts like “a living wage,” “safety standards,” and “breathable air.” It’s beyond me how they’re even getting ideas like this in their fragile little heads, considering they were all pulled out of school and told that literacy was a tool of Satan himself.
This was quite possibly the most grotesque scene I have ever witnessed, after that horrifying evening when Daddy’s manservant wore regular suit cufflinks with a tuxedo at the Combatting Class Consciousness Awareness Gala! These ferocious rats dared to meet my gaze with their dead, sunken eyes. They pounded their allegedly-bloody little hands on my desk, and shouted at me with vitriol from their mouths which were rife with missing teeth. If they wanted money, they still had the tooth fairy to look to! Why should they come to me on my gold throne and ask for a handout when there is a literal magical being running around with a pedophilic tooth fetish?
Due to this unfortunate incident, there are sure to be sweeping layoffs across the board, starting with the sweatsh… I mean factory’s snipers, who should never have allowed this unholy insurrection to reach the sacred fortress of my office. I’m extremely shaken up by the traumatic events of this fateful day, and will hereby be taking a much needed six month sabbatical in the Maldives in order to fully process my emotions and come to terms with the oppressive, malicious nature of children.
Needless to say, the parents of those involved should be ashamed of themselves for raising such greedy, dirty little bastards. In fact, I lay the blame squarely on their shoulders. It is their fault for not teaching their children how to lionize their superiors, and for dying in my father’s pristine coal mines and leaving their worthless offspring as grubby little orphans.
I can still hear them outside, singing along to “Solidarity” and playing kickball with my floor manager’s head. I guess it’s true what they say: “Some children are too lazy and stupid to earn a living through hard labor.”