Donation Reclamation

Another maniacal Monday bares its teeth at us, mortals—shall we not respond in kind? Early this morn, under Dawn’s cold gaze, I infiltrated one of the Democratic National Committee’s “donor caches.” Scattered across this world (& others) by order of High Lord Clinton, all “surplus” coins, gems, & hopes find their way into heaping chests & barrels.

Why do American mortals tolerate all this hoarding? Kamala Harris suckled up a billion dollars, mainly from desperate laymen, hoping with their few ducats to buy a future they could tolerate. Instead, they received chastisement for not voting hard enough, & now suffer under the miserable & bloated Jarl Trump. Should ye not, at least, receive a refund?

With the unliving skull of Boss Tweed by my side, I resolve to pilfer from the flailing DNC whatever may serve some use. Ye owe them no fealty, no consideration; they swindled & faltered to the last. All the crumbling institutions of the Imperium Americum, ye must reclaim from them what ye need—seize back anything they stole, & repurpose the treasure toward building the world to come.

I began with the DNC, for as we know, they refuse to fight back. But the Republicans, the oil-men, the bankers, the insurance profiteers, the hedge fund-folk…thy Imperium shelters many mega-thieves, guzzling all the resources needed for the future.

We know of all their dens & hideouts.

Will ye join my next expedition?

Thank ye for reading, mortals! & we thank effusively the growing cohort of generous mortals who can & do support our works here with coin!

I hope this week shall not try thee too harshly; but these times try us all, indeed. I shall write ye come Wednesday with news of this week’s episode! ‘Til then—be safe, be well, & may the flaming skull of Boss Tweed guide thee to glory.

Cheers,
Amoenus Franco
Wizard, Writer, Future-Seeker