All About Profit

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Donny is a genius with figures, and uses his accumulated wealth to wield power.

Submitted: November 19, 2017

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Submitted: November 19, 2017

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All About Profit.

Donny was a bit of a whizz-kid, at least when it came to anything money related. Even as a child he could look at the gifts he was given for his birthday and put a price on them. If he felt short-changed by family or friends he would instantly let them know. He was not a pleasant child, being both smart and manipulative, but he knew how to use things for his advantage and, one way or another, if he wanted you to be his ‘friend’ you would find yourself becoming one.

He was a master at play-ground swapping. Knowing the monetary value of everything he could not really lose out. So sometimes he’d have to hang on to something for a while but eventually it would always go for the highest possible price.

All through his school and college life, Donny remained the same. He was far from being smart, apart from in matters regarding money, but his grades always stayed high. Was there anyone who could not be manipulated for the right price, be it in cash or kind? He never found anyone! And by the time he graduated he had managed to amass himself a small fortune.

His family still lived in the seedy, rundown side of town where he had grown up. Sometimes he’d send them a bit of money so that they could maybe treat themselves to something. The fact that he could have easily bought them a better house in a nicer neighbourhood, well, even if he’d thought of it, he’d have tossed it aside. He was only interested in profit, in his own personal gain. He’d had nothing to do with his family for years and it had done him not a bit of harm.

You might think that being so interested and clever with money, Donny would have been attracted to the currency markets. Stocks and shares and financial manipulation should have been right down his street, but he turned his back on that and began to build his very own business empire.

When there was a need for something, he’d start a company to fulfil that need. He was not interested in the bottom end of society, the top was where the money was and where the money stayed. Donny became king of luxury in every form. As he got older he found it being frowned upon that he was still single. The fact was that people did not interest him at all, but status did. He found himself a beautiful trophy wife, half his age, and her appearance brought even more lucrative deals his way. He would have rented her out by the night if it brought more profit, but to that idea she said a firm ‘no’. They never talked to each other in private; theirs was a public-only relationship.

Donny’s wealth grew more and more, and so did his sphere of influence, of power. He was so rich, so revered, that he could change and manipulate almost every aspect of society. Nobody would have ever dared to cheat him; Donny knew just where every cent, every dollar should be. But now that he had amassed his fortune he needed something else. He had power, sure enough, but he would go after greater power – he would influence the world.

And that he did. But while he was so clever at keeping track of his money, he was both too blind and too stupid to notice how unstable the world around him was becoming. The poorer people wanted more; a better life, more influence over their own environments. Countries compared themselves to other countries and groups to other groups. The entire world became unstable, unsettled, ready to explode.

It was only when it had reached such extreme fragility that Donny noticed what was going on. And what he noticed were the dollar signs, the ones that kept flashing up in front of him whenever he heard about more trouble, more disagreements. He’ d turn his eye to the arms trade; supply the highest bidder.

One faction after another paid up; one country after another outbid and outdid each other. Donny did not care that he was supplying both sides of a war and that the war was spreading so fast and so far it could only become the war to end all wars. Donny would be alright, along with some of the other wealthiest members of society. They could sit it out in safety.

Poor Donny; logic was never one of his strengths. He survived and sat it out, his vast wealth still intact. But what use was it to be to him in a land where survival belonged to the fittest, the most able to adapt. You found something, you took it; money was worth no more than the paper it was printed on.

And the survivors still remembered what had happened. How the world had been plunged into annihilation by the greed of a man named Donny. He was still a famous man, still well-known; destined to struggle and stay out of sight for his guilt was endless and undeniable. All for the sake of his own personal greed.


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