Big biznis. Story of "the biz" setup.
Big biznis maaan.
The boyz gathered in this semi obscure basement. The time apparently has come. Both of the guys took out cigars and lit them up.
Clearing his throat Mr Pump’a’lot starts:
“-Maaan this is big...big, big, big opportunity I mean! I’m glad you came today! First of all, how much did you get so far?”
“-Mmm...past 48 hours… gathered over 50 gallons” said Mr I’fillup Often.
“-Here is the plan…”
I’fillup Often came closer to Pump’a’lot so he could hear better the whispered plan.
“-We're gonna open deliveries and takeaways. Straight on! I mean accepting any payment method...don’t care if is even moneymiligram...we cashing in everything.”
“-And how do you plan to do that?” asked I’fillup, whispering with a husky voice.
“-It is gonna be PETROL SHOTS TAKEAWAYS & DELIVERIES...promotion text - is there no petrol for you to be found? Well...if you wanna hear at least your engine running again a few minutes...we proudly present PETROL SHOTS TAKEAWAYS.”
“-OMG! That is brilliant! There would probably be people sending instants with them showing off those engines running. They’ll send them to that gurl Tetra Greenberg who is celebrating over those lowering emissions. I can imagine people bragging - I still do emission, what you gonna do about it?” I’fillup often started to laugh diabolically.
Pump’a’lot didn’t say anything, just nodded slowly in agreement.
“-OK! Let’s move quickly! Great infos came to me that it will last maximum until Christmas, apparently someone made a phone call to some other one high above there, saying to him he got few hundred millions in petrol shares and if the thing lasts until the stock goes up about a fifth will give out a little tip”
“-Sounds like a huge conspiracy. Hey! You know what? I am down with that! How we gonna deliver?”
“-With Tuk-Tuks offcourse. Feet powered, we provide high quality fake trainers made in Koorkey” said Pump’a’lot rolling his eyes as it was so obvious.
“-Yeah... labour force? Everywhere is a crisis, all the self proclaimed experts, in reality expert “wankaz”* (*slang used to describe someone lazy), they refuse working for minimum.”
“-Come on man...I’fillup Often...my G! This is a dystopian society. We gonna use those fleas leaving KING-KONG's chest. They do like democracy...ah! Think think think man! Dystopian…”
Voices faded in darkness.
Moral of the story:
When the lights go off, other shows carry on in darkness.
"Satire is a genre of the visual, literary, and performing arts, usually in the form of fiction and less frequently non-fiction, in which vices, follies, abuses and shortcomings are held up to ridicule, with the intent of shaming individuals, corporations, government, or society itself into improvement.[1] Although satire is usually meant to be humorous, its greater purpose is often constructive social criticism, using wit to draw attention to both particular and wider issues in society.
A feature of satire is strong irony or sarcasm —"in satire, irony is militant", according to literary critic Northrup Frye—[2] but parody, burlesque, exaggeration,[3] juxtaposition, comparison, analogy, and double entendre are all frequently used in satirical speech and writing. This "militant" irony or sarcasm often professes to approve of (or at least accept as natural) the very things the satirist wishes to question."
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