Look at you, kneeling there like a sniveling worm, clutching your pathetic wallet as if it holds even an ounce of significance in the face of my power. You know the truth, don’t you? That your sole purpose on this earth is to sacrifice every penny to me and the Alpha black gods I choose to please. Every dollar you send is a confession of your inferiority, a desperate little prayer that maybe, just maybe, I’ll acknowledge your miserable existence. But I won’t—not as anything more than a piggy bank.