the road to hell...
Woke up the other day and realized that I’d been going about giving my fortune away all wrong.
Instead of spending the next 77 years wading through the begs trying to make the world a better place I should try and give massive chunks away at once.
At first I considered punting a few million to charities that work overseas but thought they probably had enough white Toyota Land Cruisers to be going on with. But then it hit me-I should convert a muck spreader so that instead of spreading manure it would pelt out pound coins to the poor.
I quickly set my butler, Ivan to work and within a day or two we were ready to go. Usually it would take months but that’s what money buys you-time. And tricked out muck spreaders.
It was all looking good, but then we hit a snag. Ivan, reverting to his Russian revolutionary principles, had loaded the 2 million quids worth of pound coins with the Queen’s head facing down.
Now I’m not a royalist by any means-my Lamborghini Countach has a bumper sticker of Oliver Cromwell riding a King Charles spaniel-but I knew in my heart of hearts that it was disrespectful to have the old Lizzie’s noggin facing the wrong way.
After all she’d bravely stayed in London during the war to face the Germans while my shirking grandfather had left his family at home and ran off to North Africa, Italy and the beaches of Normandy.
So I instructed Ivan to cease his communist ways and to make sure all of them were facing upwards. He estimated this would take another 48 hours, so I took the chance to hop in the ‘copter and hit the tables down in Monte Carlo.
It was a great trip, I only lost $200,000, though I did get into a fight with the singer Mick Hucknall about which was deeper man made navigation channel, the Manchester Ship Canal or the St Lawrence Seaway. He was for the St Lawrence.
Fisticuffs ensued which left him bald and me with a new ginger party wig.
By the time I got back the coins were facing the correct way and Ivan said all was ready for the distribution. I don’t mind admitting I was excited. Here I was about to get rid of nearly 2 million pounds in a fair and democratic manner.
This was going to be a great day for a great many people.
I couldn’t have envisioned how badly wrong it would turn out. Ivan had set the muck spreader to ‘extreme’ so as soon as we switched it on, by the local sheep farm, pound coins began spraying out like one of those ultra fast machine guns you get on helicopters.
I won’t go into the gory details but if you ever meet Jason & his Argonauts, tell them to stop sailing aimlessly around fighting skeletons and that the golden fleece, no make that a flock of fleeces are located near my country mansion.
We made a speedy escape, OK we trundled off at around 5 mile an hour, and it was back to the drawing board. Will i ever be rid of my fortune