The Mischievous Nerd's Guide to World Domination
Author: Stephen Oberauer

Chapter 88
Poverty

Saturday, the 8th of September, 2007 marked the beginning of the end of poverty. Half of the people who lived in the first town had moved into the second. We did this for the sake of diversity. Our plan was to give the remaining eight hundred houses to poor people, but we wanted to integrate the cultures, so that we didn’t have one town working more effectively than another. We needed a good spread of skills, and unfortunately poor people tend not to be very well educated. Our second town was called ‘New World’ as a bit of a joke to poke fun at New World Order conspiracy theorists.

Finding poor people was the easiest thing in the world, but I wanted to choose someone who I felt deserved a new home, and so I came up with a fun plan. I bought a rusty, old car, and dressed up in old clothes, which I used to wear while painting. I then drove to a shopping centre and parked it. Usually, when one brings a decent car to a parking area, one is immediately greeted by someone offering to watch your car for you, while you do your shopping. A completely unnecessary job in a parking area full of people, but one has to earn money somehow. I watched the car guards as they ignored me completely and tended to the fancier cars. ‘Not a bad way to avoid the car guards,’ I thought, seeing as they were more of a nuisance than anything else.

I bought a trolley full of groceries. As I pushed the trolley towards my car I looked around at the car guards, watching to see if anyone would come and help me load my groceries into the car. No-one came. I opened the squeaky boot of the car and grabbed the first bag. ‘Cen I help sir with the begs?’ a voice came from behind me. I turned around and there stood an elderly man with his hands stretched out.

‘Would you like to earn some money?’ I asked.

‘Yes master. I will do anything to earn some money,’ he replied enthusiastically.

‘Okay. Don’t worry with the bags. I’ll load them myself,’ I told him.

‘Hev you got a job for me?’ the man asked impatiently, while I loaded the bags myself.

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘I’ll explain just now.’

After I had packed the bags I reached into my pocket and pulled out a crispy hundred rand note. ‘I’m doing some research,’ I told the man. ‘I’ll give this to you if you show me where you live.’

‘Yes master. I show you!’ he replied rather eagerly.

I handed him the hundred rand note and he hopped into the passenger seat of the car. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, if you got so much money, why you drive this old car?’

‘It was an experiment,’ I told him, as I turned the key in the ignition and waited for the car to stop shaking. ‘I’m Nathan, by the way.’

‘George,’ he replied.

As I drove to the squatter camp where George lived, I told him about the two towns and offered him a new home. Of course he was a bit sceptical, but very grateful too. I explained that he would have a week to bring as many of his friends and family that he wanted, and meet me in the same shopping area, and I would take them to their new home. ‘What’s the cetch?’ he asked me.

‘There are two things,’ I replied. ‘Firstly, every man has to have a vasectomy.’

‘The snip?’ he interrupted. ‘Ouch! I’m not having mine cut off!’

‘They don’t cut it off,’ I explained, and told him how the operation worked, explaining that we wanted to get as many people out of the world and into our towns as quickly as possible. I told him that if everyone was going to spend their time making as many babies as possible, then it would be very difficult to make space for new people.

‘The second rule, is that everyone has to work for at least two hours a day.’

‘Only two hours?’ he shouted, ‘I work twelve hours a day! Two hours is nothing!’

As soon as we arrived at his rusty old shack I told him that he could have the shopping bags. We loaded the bags into his tiny home, and then I reminded him about our meeting the next week. ‘No more than eight hundred people,’ I told him, joking slightly. ‘We only have eight hundred houses.’

He gave me a hug before I left, ‘Thenk you sir. Thenk you. Thenk you. God bless you.’ He had become quite jolly for an old man.

I drove off with a naughty smile on my face. I had left ten thousand rand in one of the bags without him knowing, partly to convince him that I wasn’t just messing with him, and partly just for the fun of it.

 

Notify me when...

"This extract remains the exclusive property of the author who retains all copyright and other intellectual property rights in the work. It may not be stored, displayed, published, reproduced or used by any person or entity for any purpose without the author's express permission and authority."

Please rate and comment on this work
The writer appreciates your feedback.

Book overall rating (No. of ratings: 
13
):
Would you consider buying this book?
Yes | No
Your rating:
Post a comment Share with a friend
Your first name:
Your email:
Recipient's first name:
Recipient's email:
Message:
 

Worthy of Publishing is against spam. All information submitted here will remain secure, and will not be sold to spammers.

No advertising or promotional content permitted.