Firstly, who the fuck are they?
Secondly, you have the money, why can’t you just be reasonable? Like it’s not enough to rich, and not work and be happy, travel the world without limits and without a care… you somehow need to hurt people. It’s awful.
But how else will they get a bigger house? Nicer, larger yacht? More private jets?
Like, I kinda understand the “more more more!” mentality. As my income has gone up over the years, there’s always something more my monkey brain tells me I should want. A nicer, more comfortable car. A new video card. Two angry ponies. You know how it is. I tell it to shut up because I have more than enough already.
I’m not a sociopath, though, so at no point has my monkey brain told me to enslave others so I can have nicer stuff.
Why do the ponies have to be angry? Seems kind of uncharacteristic
Little Grandpa story time:
Ponies are generally nicer than horses, but I was raised believing ponies were angry, vicious little assholes. My father was bucked off of a pony in his twenties, causing him to break a rib and paralyze half of his diaphragm. Being the actual asshole in this story, he never stopped to think that maybe he was too heavy and too drunk for a pony, so he spread pony hate throughout his life. I want angry ponies as I dislike my father and on a primal level think they’d keep me safe from people like him, like two pissy, grass eating charms to protect against narcissists.
I’m not even kidding when I say it’s getting to be pretty close to the time that we need to break out the guillotines and remind these people what happens if they get too sure of themselves.
Eat the rich.
