Sixpence the Richer

[Grimn]

Sixpence the Richer

Greed, it’s essentially what controls the world now a days. Look all around you and you will see the constant pursuit of riches and wealth. The bustle of fancy cars, lavish parties being thrown by billionaire tycoons looking for the next gold-digger. Really it’s all…predictable to say the least. However what about that majority population that is forced to try and scrape by? Or those that society has determined lost their chance regardless of their circumstances? Well tough luck to em. However by the vary thoughts that the rich have seized the opportunities given to them and thus made their money, it usually ends up those rich guys didn’t do it quite all that honest. Although the way I make my money, I don’t suppose I can really judge. My name is Ryan Freeman and I specialize in liberating those people of their wealth.

Now before you get all mad it’s not like I take all of their money, just a large enough portion that will cause a sizeable donation to the best charity of them all. Breaking in and taking it, re wiring funds through bank accounts, or my favorite, the old con game. I use all of them to help out those guys who simply are trying to scratch by. Now I don’t just help out all of them. I’m not a big fan on the ones that squandered their multiple opportunities. The druggies, alcoholics, simply dumb ones? Well there’s always charity handouts. But the ones that really just need a chance? Well call me the chance fairy and watch me work. Now that’s not to say my work doesn’t come with some hassles. I’m kind of wanted in several countries for theft and fraud but who isn’t now a days? How do I know who should get a second chance and who shouldn’t? Well some of it can be researched but for the most part you just gotta follow your gut, otherwise it’s kind of a crapshoot. Most of the time though if you simply listen to someone’s story you can find out about them. Or at least you got a story out of it hugh?

Douglas was a quiet man, lived in the woods beside the highway with two tents and all of his belongings. Oh and his one true friend, a german Sheppard who was much more friendly than he first appeared. He would try and find odd jobs here and there but with the economy like it is jobs aren’t exactly common. His one bright spot of the week was when he would be able to scrape enough money to get to stay at the Red Roof Inn for a night. Warm bed, fresh shower, a few free shampoo bottles whats not to like? A room was $35 a night so it wouldn’t exactly be easy to get it. Oh yeah and his ride was his ex wife who would take him for $10 a ride. I know what a bitch. How do I get all this from the guy? Research my dear Watson, research. Okay I stalked the guy for about a month and gathered all this. Don’t judge me I do good things for people. Okay you can judge a little but just this once. Anyways I found out that Douglas had to pay to put himself through community college. Only problem was that his job and classes conflicted sometimes. So he had to miss class in order to work to afford the class. That’s America for you though, never really thinking things through. Anyways his grades suffered and soon enough he had dropped out all together. Well come to find out his job was conditional on the fact that they had assumed he would graduate from community college. So he lost his job over the classes he couldn’t go to because of his job. Makes you wonder where his manager graduated from and how he graduated in general. Anyways to make a long story short one day as Douglas was sitting outside his tent, waiting to embrace another day a Rav 4 runner drove up. A man in his mid twenties stepped out wearing a loose suit and walked over to the other side of the car. The man was dashingly handsome and completely suave. Ok yeah it’s me, did you figure it out when I said handsome? I leaned against the car and looked at Douglas, the guy probably wondering what drug I was on. “Let’s go for a ride” I said, a smile on my face. “Hell no, you crazy homo” said the man, obviously deciding that it was a high power hallucinogen that I was on. My smile fell, I mean I’m the good guy here right? “Listen, my names Ryan and I think that you need a second chance” I began. Reaching into the coat pocket I took out a stack of cash equaling one hundred thousand dollars. “This is ten thousand dollars. Where gonna make your dreams come true” I said, the smile reappearing on my face. Damn, Oprah should just give me a weekly special right now.

[Grimn]

Well it’s that time again. Another week and another tale of my daring exploits to save the world, one hobo at a time. If you remember, last week we met Douglas, a nice guy who was down on his luck. I had just flashed the cash in front of his face and we were on our way to make a few of his dreams come true. However you gotta first ask yourself, how exactly do I go about procuring this money? Well you see the money fairy and I are on fairly good terms so I simply pick up the phone and after a short conversation I usually have the funds. However when the fairy is pissed or I forget her number I have to resort to more cunning methods. Which brings us to this week’s installment of Ryan Freeman saves America, How dreams come true.
Sitting behind a desk was boring. Like excruciatingly boring, like how could anyone do this all day boring. However Ryan Freeman had been sitting there for the past few hours waiting for one very important client to come through his doors. Finally a small, rather portly man entered the office, flanked by a bodyguard. This man’s name was Nigel and he was rich. “Mr. Nigel welcome” Ryan Freeman said standing and extending a hand, the large smile never leaving his face. The portly man looked at the extended hand as if it carried the swine flu and bubonic plagues estranged love child. “Er..well let’s get to business then” rebounded Freeman, taking a seat. “What brings you here” asked Freeman. Of course he had researched this client extensively and knew exactly what he was doing here. Every month Nigel came into this law firm and had his money laundered through multiple bank accounts to make it come out legitimate. It was simply a matter of creating an alternate persona and applying for a job. With a little bit of hacking it was a simple matter of creating an impeccable resume and beating pretty much everyone else at the job. “You should know why I am here” responded the portly man. “Of course” responded Freeman, taking the briefcase that had been placed on the desk in front of him and opened it. In front of him was a small computer screen that held the bank codes for the entire man’s fortune. With a few button presses Freeman had rewired the funds through a Cayman islands account, a Swiss bank account, and a Spanish dining company that specialized in a rather delicious flounder dish. The bodyguard snapped the suitcase shut and the two men left. Well there is a prime example of a rich bitch. Honestly the guy is making tons of illegal funds and yet are there any repercussions for him? Of course not, he will continue to make money off of his 1.5 million he just made. Crap that’s right he isn’t getting that money, must have forgot that part. Too bad that the program that is written into the Cayman’s account takes 5%, the Swiss account takes 13% of whats left and the flounder dish is quite expensive at 18%. So it seems that really he is getting roughly $429,452 and I am pocketing the rest. Well ain’t taxes a bitch.
People seem to always wonder, but don’t people get kind of pissed when they find a large sum of money missing? Well I assume they are, except I make it a point to never see those people again. And if they track how the money was spent? Oh some homeless person managed to steal this large sum of money from high power executives? Doubt it. Half the time when they question the guys on who gave them the money they simply say a ghost. That’s the nice thing about those guys. There loyal, someone looked out for them for once and they will do the same in return.
I watched as Douglas drove away in the Rav 4 runner, his dog hanging its head out of the window. He had gone and gotten all new clothes and already leased an apartment and enrolled in the community college classes that he never got to finish. What surprised me the most though was the first thing he bought, some dog food. He said that it was the least he could do for his one true friend. I walked down the street and prepared to go back to my apartment nearby, satisfied with a job well done. If there was any justice in the world Douglas would come across his ex wife broken down on the road and give her a ride. For a fee of course.

[Grimn]

Everyone makes mistakes
There are times that I must admit, even I make a mistake on who should get a second chance and who should be left to live out their meager lives. I met Frank two years ago under an overpass, huddled with a cardboard box and his one prized possession, a silver watch that his father had given to him as a small child. I picked him up and gave him my usual all your dreams are coming true speech. After driving him around and watching him pick out some nice new things I dropped him off with $10,000 dollars and went on my way, another person given another chance. This was all before I researched my targets, it was what started me to do so. I saw Frank a week later under the same underpass, dazed out of his mind on crystal meth. Come to find out he had bet almost all of the money I gave him on the outcome of a basketball game. He was handed a second chance and he simply handed it back to the world. The little money he had left he used for his addiction. Frank killed the small amount of naivety that was present within me at the time. After that I made sure that these individuals deserved second chances and that I didn’t waste money on those that only waste their chances.
The worst part about it is that I can still see the hope in their eyes when I drive away. These people have nothing and will throw away the chance they have to make something because of their incapableness to put what’s best for them first. I would be lying if I said that it didn’t get to me at times. But I have to give chances to those that will make something from them otherwise I’m just a charity and if there is one thing that I am not it is a charity.
My mind often drifted to these things when I was driving around the city of Chicago. Why would someone throw away a chance? Wouldn’t that be all that you could wish for in that situation? Perhaps I don’t understand the people that I am attempting to help at all and that scares the crap out of me. If I don’t understand them then how am I supposed to help them? Sometimes I think that it’s all too much for one man. The good news is that when I think of that I remember that it’s me. So that brings us to this nice bank here on our left.