A Grimm Tale

There once was a rich man who had two sons, one of whom was extremely handsome, but feckless and lazy, and the other plain of countenance, but clever and industrious. Throughout their lives, the handsome son had always been the rich man's favourite, constantly receiving his father's praise and always being favoured with the best of all circumstances.

When the boys grew into young men, their father put them both to work in his factory, the handsome son in the offices overseeing administration, and the plain son on the shop floor packing their products into boxes ready for delivery.  

The handsome son was extremely pleased with his lot and sat behind a desk in his plush private office gambling on-line on his desk-top Dell or making anonymous obscene comments to narcissist influencers on snap chat.   

Down below, on the shop floor, the plain son toiled virtuously for twelve hour shifts and took great pride in the conscientious manner in which he fulfilled his duties. He reorganised systems, increased productivity and company profits and acquired many friends and admirers on the shop floor. 

Delighted with the increased profits, the rich man left things in the safe hands of his handsome son and set off on his yacht to cruise the Scilly Isles. He had decided that as things were going so well, he would spend the whole Summer letting himself go amongst the fleshpots of St Mary's and Tresco.

Delighted by his father's departure, the handsome son quickly abandoned his own office and moved into his father's, anxious to display his new found seniority and power. There he spent his days on on-line gambling sites, slowly but surely losing every penny he possessed. 

Having quickly gambled away his savings and then maxed out on his many credit cards, he soon turned to the factory's business accounts as a means of settling his daily losses, strictly on a temporary loan basis you understand, as he was absolutely certain that the tide would soon turn in his favour.

It is in the nature of things that tides will either carry you in or carry you out, and in this story they did both. As a high tide effortlessly floated the rich man into the arms of St Mary, a rip tide of disastrous events snatched the handsome son and the factory into bankruptcy. The bank foreclosed, the staff were made redundant and the once profitable factory fell silent.

The plain son was mightily distressed at these circumstances and, in spite of being clever and industrious, spent much of the rest of his days living from the fruits of Universal Credit. The rich man was tracked down, one pleasant Summer evening, at anchor off Tresco and his yacht seized by the Official Receiver as it had been listed an asset of the factory. Totally pissed-off by the whole sorry debacle, he stayed put and opened a jerk chicken shack on the beach. 

The handsome son's life however, now took a very different path. Unknown to anyone, he'd hit the on-line jackpot just days before the rip tide struck, the last of ten free spins on BetFred, and he quickly caught the next red-eye to New York. With his jackpot winnings he invested in property across the country and in spite of being feckless and lazy, soon became extremely rich and odious.  

In the United States of America, he soon discovered that these were the very qualities required for a successful life in politics and quickly found himself in a position of  power and influence. By a brilliant combination of crass stupidity and ruthless criminality he was soon able to outsmart centuries of democratic process, grant himself immunity from everything and turn a once proud nation into a sordid money making machine. 

So you see, the rich man's faith in his favourite son paid off handsomely; clearly a man who knew a winner when he saw one. The next time you're strolling along the beach on Tresco, stop by at the chicken shack; the one with the banner that reads 'Making Jerk Great again' and sample the true taste of success.