He Jerks Hard for the Phonies

"I work hard!" he told a room of openly uninterested listeners, something he did a lot of the time, especially after he left work at his private firm, his minuscule fiefdom. OK: especially at work, since his employees never listened to what he had to say because they were immune to bullshit. He didn't care. He was better since he made more money than they did, thanks to ripping off all of them through creative accounting and delusions of adequacy, and legally too.

"Goddamned deadbeats--won't work, plenty of jobs out there, I know!!*#^!" As was always the case, nobody acted as though they were listening, and on a conscious level, they weren't. The man kept going on anyway, yammering away while seven people in rags were lined-up outside clutching signs with various inscriptions on them, but all of them essentially said "Will Work for Food" in one way or another. Most of them had been working weeks before, and very hard.

"Spoiling my view!" he muttered. He was only 35, but came off as a moldering 88.

"For the love of God, would you please shut the fuck up, sir, asshole--whateverthefuck your fuckin' name is? Jesus, fucker." asked and projectile-vomited a young lady in black leather, festooned with tattoos and piercings from head-to-toe.

"Why don't you go get a job, like me? I'm even self-employed, eh, top that, you loud-mouthed Goth-cooze!" he growled, drool flowing from both sides of his mouth, a vein throbbing on his forehead, and a visible erection showing through his dockers. Baboons have their own male species.

"I have a job, bitch," she shot back instantly, visibly smacking him in the face with the comment. "But...everyone fuckin' works, you crybaby asshole. What makes you so special, fuckface?" and she sat back down in the booth she was in and turned her back to him disrespectfully. There was a round of applause for a solid three minutes, but a few in the corner slunk out after paying their bill, looking suspiciously ignorant, even furtively so, as they went across the street to do business at the asshole's unimportant fiefdom.