Winning the lottery

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
What would you do if you won the lottery?
What would you spend it on? A trip to the moon???
A humourous short story about lots of money.

Submitted: January 18, 2008

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Submitted: January 18, 2008

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I’m sub-consciously watching the news. They’re talking about beggars. Beggars are nothing. They should be banished. They just walk around begging for money. If I ever see one I am going to mock them, tease them, taunt them, make them feel like dirt, make them feel like the ridiculous people. No I shouldn’t classify them as people. Make them feel like the ridiculous … things they really are. As the boring story finishes, something even more boring begins. Tattslotto. Although I buy tickets, I never actually believe I am going to win. I stare blankly at the TV screen, not taking in anything. “36, 7, 23, 16” Wait a minute, aren’t those my numbers? My numbers are 36, 7, 23, 16, 13, 27, 44 and 8. “13” I’m getting nervous. “27” I wipe my sweaty palms on my shorts. “44” Blood rushes through my veins. “Please be 8, please be 8,” I think. “8” My face turns as white as a ghost. I check and recheck my ticket, the ticket to dream. Yes, I win 13 million dollars. Tattslotto really is the ticket to dream.
 
 What should I spend it on? Should I buy a Porsche or a Ferrari? Both! A mansion worth $2 000 000 is now owned by me. If I want to be a rich man, I need to look like a rich man. A suit with diamond buttons will do nicely. Only $1 000 000. As I’m shopping for more delicacies, I bump into a few enemies. They always tease me about my money problems. I give them a couple of thousand dollars each and soon they’re my best buddies. I find girls like me more now too. It never occurred to me that they liked the money, not me. All I care about is how good it is to be rich. That night, I invite all my new friends (all 36 of them) to a five star restaurant. The night is fantastic. We stay up until 3:00 in the morning. But most importantly, I am extremely popular, especially among girls. The cost of $2 000 000 is a small price to pay. The next day I am drained of all my energy. I decide I need a holiday. I check the internet and find a very appealing advertisement. “A TRIP TO THE MOON! 1 person: $2 500 000, 2 people: $4 000 000” The next week I’m on a spaceship with my girlfriend. Space is amazing. Food flies everywhere. After a few hours we arrive on the moon. My girlfriend startles me and I jump, except the moon’s gravitational pull is 6 times weaker than the Earth’s so I literally fly into the sky. We spend endless hours “flying” around the moon and when it is time to go we are very sorrowful. We are so tired we sleep through the return flight. Before we can even step out, a stampede of reporters and interviewers charge at us. It seems we are the first to fly a luxury flight to the moon. I am really nervous but my girlfriend blows me away with her confidence. After we ward off the reporters I send my girlfriend home. When I return home I am bombarded by a crowd of beggars. These few weeks, all my wishes have been granted. I’ve won Tatts, I’m popular, I’ve got girlfriends and now I can ridicule a bunch of beggars. These beggars are scrappy little beasts with not a kilo of meat on them. Their faces are so bony that I can see their cheek bones. Their eyes, trained through years of pretending, look almost dead. They look pretty convincing but I will not be fooled. I start by calling them names. They don’t understand me, but they still look scared. I start nudging them, knocking their bony heads. I rip up their clothes and pull their hair. As they run away, I trip them up. Satisfied, I walk into my house. A lovely day this has been.
 
The next few weeks have been the same: talking with friends, shopping and playing games. I’m incredibly bored. One day, my friends drag me into a stunning casino. I discover how fun gambling really is. The next day I go again, this time, without my friends. I gamble away $10 000. I do not mind losing. After all, I’ve got heaps of money. My addiction continues. I reject an offer to go to a football match and drive to the casino. I’m having the time of my life. I play poker. I bid $500. Damn, I lost. I bid $300. Damn, I lost. I bid $700. Damn, I lost. I bid $100. Yes! I won. I play for the rest of the night. It’s 3:00 in the morning and I’m playing black jack. I bid $900. Wait, I don’t have any money left. What should I bid? I know, I’ll bid my car. Noooooooooooo! My car! Oh well I’ve still got another one. I bid my other car. A lost cause. What else can I bid? I know, my house! Goodbye, house. The rest of the morning continues like this. In the end, I have nothing, not even my clothes. I don’t mind though. I’ll just ask my friends for money. I learn what my “friends” really are; money-thirsty cheaters. Not even my girlfriend gave me a dollar. I am in trouble now. What should I do? I begin to panic. All is lost. Actually, I might have one last resort...
 
Begging


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