Listen up! You smart-phone carrying, tap water drinking, weak-willed, lackadaisical Facebook-loggers-in.
I just found out who's ruining all of society. And it's crazy. You're not going to believe it. Your 9 to 5 sheeple pea brains are going to absolutely explode when you find out what I know. The reason why all the malls are closed, and why the streets are filled with teenage jackals flipping butterfly knives, giggling off of whatever psy-op terroristic memes their handlers fed them and carving arcane symbols into each other's chests and snorting dark web powder out of the wounds. The reason why standing out under an open sky is bad for your teeth now. The reason that my stereo got stolen. All the signs were there, you just had to pay attention.
And you won't believe what they're doing now.
They're putting a toe tax out on every hard working millionaire. For all the sweat and tears we pour into our businesses, they're taking it back with a sliced off toe. The shiftless cruelty of it. My money isn't cheap, it's the residue of good honest labor, of abstinence from pleasure, of discipline of self, and now these blue-haired tumblrites in their skinny jeans and oversized hoodies and Marxist cleavers made with Chinese steel are here for my delicious toes. Putting them in a vacuum-sealed plastic bubble-wrapped bag and sending them, unsucked, to the Revenue Service. What a waste.
There are only so many good earning years in a lifetime. Before long I'll be tipping forward in my shoes like a common drunk. But my condition will not have been inflicted by degenerate substances, but by the evil bastards who run this world. Soon every shoe will fit like a clown shoe. Out of balance. Men of science and industry left teetering on their balls of their feet, unable to comfortably complete a long drive.
I left a bouquet of flowers on the hood of an unmarked van. For the liberation of own people. What I didn't expect was the stolen valor of the filthy hippies who inhabited the van, or the viciousness and gall with which these pretenders captured me and injected me with self-replicating strands of memes. Or their smelly hippie kisses. There I was, coated in the saliva of shirtless degenerates, when the driver of the van (for reasons of society, I will not describe his Race) described to me the ways in which his kind delivered their messages. Decoded with tools of concentric circles and alphanumeric characters, their sunburned society controlled all of human civilization with subliminal messages, written into the sequences of words of mass communication. Tweets, bathroom wall scribblings, fantasy erotica, et cetera. Activation phrases for sleeper agents, he explained, for their wide and terrible net of subliminal zombies, ready to strike and unaware of it.
The combination of these unbearable truths and the sensation of his harem of heavy-set shirtless kissers had so distracted me that I had forgotten to struggle against my captors. In this moment of awed realization and unhygienic wetness, the thugs in the windowless van severed my middle toe from my left foot. Boltcutters snatching through bone. I suppose that I must have been injected with some powerful anesthetic, because I did not feel it. I try to be a brave person in the face of danger, but between the blood loss, the drugs, and the sensation of being intimately touched by strangers for the first time in years, I was overwhelmed. And I passed out.
I awoke several hours later on the same sidewalk. The white van with the violent sloppy kissers was gone. They had put my shoes back on, with gauze inside. There was a piece of paper clipped to my shirt. A receipt for my toe. Woozy, the legalese blurred for a few minutes before it made sense.
Oh weep for me not fellow patriots. My comrades and entrepreneurs. Brothers in vestings. What these hedonistic, educated-idiots deprived of me in flesh, I regained in liquidity. Moolah. Provine dividence. Cold hard credit. The IRS letter said that because my net worth was actually less than a million dollars, that my consideration (severed bloody toe) would counted against future liabilities. Now I can afford an even better stereo than before! Take that, you commie punks.