Thursday, January 23, 2014

Poverty Never Sleeps

"Let's admit it. At our age it really is all about the lifestyle at this point."

Her gorgeous bare foot dangled in the air in careless disregard, cocooned in a reality of her own mythmaking. Her two friends - one coiled cobra-like on the sofa, the other sitting rigid as a palace sentry - also enjoyed the rarefied air of the penthouse far from the great unwashed masses below.

"A room with a view, so to speak," proffered the Rigid One.

"Oh, exactly," agreed Cobra. "We deserve better. They get their raises and we get our better views. Everyone is the same."

"That was such a lovely movie, 'A Room With A View'. I do so yearn to see it again," Foot Lady lazily drawled.

"Oh, it was dreadful, I thought," Rigid objected.

"That's only because you married that dreadful Cecil instead of the dashing George," Cobra taunted in feigned mirth.

"She did quite well," Foot interceded. "How many hundreds of millions is it now?"

Rigid was too offended to respond. She hadn't always been rigid and hated the hardening over the years. But a bad marriage wrings the water from the cloth until it's dry and stiff - and unwanted.

Come hither, honey, and we shall feign a kiss!

Cobra felt the need for a shit as she'd never forgotten her having to once slither from the gutter. "I read the most wonderful article on wealth concentration. Did you know the top 85 people in the world are worth as much the bottom three and a half billion!"

"I saw that!" exclaimed Foot. "I did the calculations and I'm worth about sixty five million Pakistanis."

"At least we won't have trouble finding help or have to worry about overpaying," Rigid dryly observed.

"Greed, greed, greed. People talk about it like it's a bad thing," complained Cobra. "But how else is the world to progress? Who wants to still be living in a cave?"

"What's the point of suffering?" Foot Lady mused. "I have faith in our Maker and He most certainly does not want us to suffer."

"I just know I don't want me to suffer!" laughed Cobra.

"And it's OK to be greedy as long as you give to charity like I do." Foot dutifully crossed herself.

"Oh, bah," sneered Rigid. "That is so pretentious. You're making a hypocrite of yourself." She kept her eyes firmly on her tea cup.

"Are you saying I should give nothing at all? That's absurd. I can't betray my saved soul."

"So, so dishonest," sniffed Rigid. "One should be who she is and not pretend otherwise."

Cobra laughed uneasily. "Did I tell you we put in an ad for a kinky maid? Dear hubby wants to watch as I paddle her bottom in her French maid outfit. And who knows what else might happen!"

"Oh, that's awful!" scoffed Rigid, burning in howling jealousy with her wanting to spank anyone.

Foot disagreed. "Nothing wrong with a consensual situation as long as everyone agrees."

"Oh, of course it's fine. Will be giving her extra money over a regular maid. Perhaps some college student in need of tuition. I think she'd be most grateful to get her books paid in exchange for a few stinging swats."

Rigid was writhing in agony, expressing her raging desire in pretended scorn. "I suppose that will be one more thing you'll videotape..."

"But of course!" cheered Cobra. "And you'll be the first person to see it."

"Oh, I shouldn't want to I'd think."

"They need us, actually," Foot Lady philosophized. "You can see they need orders and guidance from their superiors. After all, there's a reason we live in a penthouse while wretched beings roam the streets. Oh, if only they could see how very dearly they need save their souls!"

Cobra felt it finally the time to let loose a zinger she'd been holding back for years. "I voted for Obama - twice!"

Cacophonous outrage delighted Cobra as she saw the hurt looks on her friends' faces. A back-stabbing of the highest order! Anarchy in the streets!

"You two should calm down," Cobra scolded. "You're always so conventional -"

"Convention is what maintains order," maintained Rigid.

"But don't you see the beauty of it? Haven't we gotten wildly richer over the past few years, more than ever before?"

"That's still no excuse to support a man not of the true faith," Foot protested.

"But you get the best of both worlds! All those bastard liberals always slandering us got nothing to say when I tell them how I voted. They think he's mister anti-greed when really he's passing all the policies we want so it's a win-win!"

Rigid was unimpressed. "You're playing with fire. You should stick with your own kind."

Foot was tempted by the idea of having a godly image. "So what exactly do the liberals say when you tell them?"

"Oh, at first they don't believe me but I saw through that black fraud right away. But are they ever drinking the Kool-Aid! They congratulate me on seeing the light and how I did what's best for society and how progressive and open-minded I am to vote for a darkie. It's really most hilarious. Wish I had been rolling film on that!"

"Progressive and open-minded? They really called you that?" inquired a disbelieving Foot.

"Oh, yes. I'm a frickin' FDR in their eyes. Want me to invite you to one of my liberal parties so we can laugh at them?"

"Oh, never!" Foot shuddered, fearing her desperate longing for liberal approval might show. "I wouldn't do that. It's just weird how they think, is all."

Rigid fumed like a verging volcano. "You open your mind to that liberal trash they talk and you'll find yourself just as corrupt and irresponsible as they are. All they want to do is hand out money to people without jobs until there's no money left to give. It's an outrage!"

"So I take it you won't be joining me on our march against Wall Street this weekend?"

"I should think not. Imagine attacking the very institutions upon which society rests!"

"Oh, you worry too much. It's not like everyone's going to stop being greedy overnight - or ever. But it's a riot to listen to them. They think they're saving the world with their angry signs and dumb internet rants. Does no one want to come?"

Foot felt guilty - and was annoyed with herself for it. "No, I better not. It could get violent or something."

"You two take yourselves too seriously! It's just a game. We couldn't rig the rules if they didn't let us. Everyone's in on it so how bad can it be?"

Rigid visibly bristled, bringing her to have the final say. "It most certainly is not a game. Lives are at stake - very real lives and very real suffering day and night without pause. It's the kind of horror one can't imagine, as if being buried alive and not a soul to hear your screams. If you think I would ever allow such an atrocity you've got another think coming! It's something that cannot be, must never be and must be eradicated from the face of the earth at all costs!"

Stunned breath-holding silence hung thickly as a dense fog. Finally, Foot leaned forward into the soup.

"You mean just shouldn't happen to you?"

"Quite right!" Affirmed Rigid. "What did you think I meant?"

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