Good afternoon, everybody. Good afternoon. So, 15% up year on year? Well, it's a shame we're up 40% on costs, but I guess... I guess it evens itself out in the end. I mean, does it? Is 15% equal to 40%, pal? Is 15% equal to 40%, pal? No. No! Good! Good head for numbers! All right. You're good folks. You're the best or you wouldn't be in here. But you've got to knuckle down for me. CGI, I can't say too much yet, but I'm going to be spending a lot more time in here with you lot because I love it in here. I fŭcking love it! So, I don't want to know about 3% week on week, I want to know that we're killing the opposition! I want to be cutting their throats! Our rivals should be checking in, out the back of their chauffeured cars because they can't believe what we did! So, fŭcking spicy, so true! Something everyone knows but nobody says because they're too fŭcking lily-livered! They cannot believe what we said, and the fact that we fŭcking said it! They're fŭcking jam smears on the highway! Now, anyone, anyone who believes that I'm getting out, please shove the bunting up your ass. This is not the end. I'm going to build something better. Something faster, lighter, leaner, wilder. And I'm going to do it from in here with you lot! You're fŭcking pirates!

The day that changed my life. Off the train, to the exit and a right turn onto Hope St. A trip I made a thousand times, I had done it so many times I could probably do it with my eyes closed. But this time, this time, it was different. The street was empty. A street that is usually jam-packed with people and cars rushing off to work was quiet for once. It was quiet except for two men. They were arguing over something, something too far away to hear but close enough to catch the odd obscenity. As the argument crescendoed in volume, the man with his back turned to me reached into his coat and "POP" a loud crack followed by an audible thump. He was dead. As his lifeless body slumped onto the cobbles of Hope St I didn't feel empathy for his family. I didn't think about all his memories forever lost to an early morning argument. But I grieved. I grieved for his economic unit.

Two hands, two legs and a head can make at least £23,795.20 a year working 40 hours a week, I thought. Standing 40-odd meters away from that now worthless bloodied chunk of meat I muttered, "What a waste." After that fateful moment on Hope St, I made it my mission to uplift others out of desperation and wrath in the hopes of saving the economy. A life is one of the most valuable things in modern-day existence and must be treated as such.

Every day I try to help at least one young buck make a buck, for financial success is the only metric to use when evaluating a person's existence. I stand by that philosophy like an Imam would stand by the teachings of the Torah. However, unlike Islam, my god has many names euro, pound, dollar, zloty and all other forms of currency. People pray to their god for security, love and peace but money? Money can get you all of that and more. Security? Just pay a bodyguard, it's really that easy. It's hard to refute the fact that the US dollar is stronger than the words in the bible, especially since the bible can be bought for only $14.99.

Sometimes I like to think of myself as an alchemist able to turn lead into gold. I could even be seen as modern-day King Midas, everything I touch triples into value. Who else could transform a failing company like Blockbuster into thousands of vacant prime real estate? Nobody except me. I am the greatest financial wizard of our time. I turned BOEING into a powerhouse by cutting the quality control budget in half. I am the man behind it all.


A lesson I learned from my close friend O.J Simpson, god rest his soul, told me "I'm not black, I'm O.J." which at the time confused me because the words were coming out of a black man's mouth, but I understand it now. The truth is not undeniable. The truth is malleable. You can bend and contort the truth into whatever you please. That's how he was found innocent, he presented HIS truth. Who cares if he brutally slaughtered his wife and that man? He did 2,000 yards in a single season and was the face of Hertz.

O.J. wasn't my only teacher. I learned from George W. Bush Sr. He showed me how to go all in and plan for everything. He never half-assed anything, when he killed Kennedy he made sure to get 3 shooters triangulated on that car. He even got the driver ready to turn around and finish the job himself. It was a perfect plan executed by a paragon of wit. Extra little bonus, when he was president Oliver Stone never made a movie about his face getting ripped off. Truly one of the greatest men in history.

But now I have a lesson to teach you. Dress for success. I'm not talking like those fake millionaire gurus that say "Wear $6,000 suits from a tailor!" That is the most idiotic advice you can follow. Why would you dress like these bums that pretend to have a million dollars? You want to dress like me: a man adorned in a full wagyu meat suit. A suit made entirely of the finest, highest quality meat available. Why pay an old man with a crooked nose to tailor you a suit? When you could call up your local butcher. I'll tell you, nothing reeks of success more than raw blood. Nothing is more powerful than a man with a stench so strong that'll make your eyes water. Nothing is more desirable than the smell of meat to a predator. Stay hungry. Stay powerful. Stay dangerous.


Nowadays I'm running my Fortune 500 companies. If you are wondering which companies specifically sorry I can't tell you, my shareholders would not be pleased. I also do philanthropy like helping the homeless learn a trade, primarily basic mechanics and hotwiring. Giving the homeless a means of acquiring transportation will keep their dirty bums off my f*cking streets. Currently, I am enacting my 4-year plan so that'll keep me busy for a while. And now you are all caught up on the man at the top.