With the message “Treat your family like a multinational corporation” ( © M. Romney enterprises. All Rights Rigorously Reserved) still glowing in our hearts, let us join the Romney family during those difficult early years of struggle at the Harvard Business School, when young Mitt didn’t have one million to rub against another (apart from the trust fund). Their travails are your travails. Doesn’t this all remind you of you ??
We join them around the breakfast table on a sunny Saturday morning.
“Maggots again?” wails Sis.
“Cashflow problems,” grunts Mitt. “That last gamble on sow-belly futures cost me a bundle.”
“Daddy, Billy’s eating his fingers.”
“Protein.”
“But, the fingernails? Won’t he choke?”
“Roughage.”
[Literary sidenote: Connoisseurs will recognize the echo of the "mommy mommy" jokes of the 1950s. In memory still green.]
~
“Daddy, who’s that lady over there in the matching ribbed écru sweater?”
“That’s an asset -- and a major one, I might add." He nods approvingly. "Solidly in the black.”
“But who is she?”
He glances over his reading-glasses. “Susie, I’m surprised at you. That’s the COO of the Maternity Department, colloquially known as `your mother’.”
“But why is she crying?”
Here an empathetic frown creases his manly mien.
“Kind of got burned on that last deal -- the infant male. Runt of the litter.”
~
The Mat.Dept. COO gets the CEO alone in “the boardroom” (their fun pet name for the bedroom).
“Dear I’d -- I’d like to have another baby. The ones I’ve got aren’t good enough.”
“Hmm,” he frowns, practical but not unkind. “What is the estimated outlay over the life of the investment?”
“We-ell, I had Finance run the numbers, and I think we can afford it. There’s the diapers, and the nannies, and the exclusive pre-pre-preschool, and the orthodontia and the cosmetic surgery to achieve the perfect Romney Look in case the merchandise should prove in any way defective … plus prep school and the horses and all that … We’re estimating, on a twenty-year cost bases, it’ll come to an even ten mill.”
“And what is the expected R.O.I.”
“Er -- normally nothing. No-one has figured out how to securitize a baby.”
“Expenditure denied.”
“But dear -- consider the factor of corporate “Good Will’. Kid’ll look great in photo ops when you later quit with your winnings before the bought-out companies collapse, and run for President, posing as a Man of the People.”
A broad grin suffuses his signature handsome face. “Y’know, kiddo, you might just have a career in marketing.”
~
Oh -- excuse me -- you think that’s cruel ? Just wait till the Wall Street sharks have taken over the White House, as their minions already infest the Senate and the House. They’ll show you cruel. You’ll breakfast on maggots and like it.
Thus, for your dining pleasure, a recipe for “Maggots in mercury, à la mode de Mitt”:
[Update 2 Jan 2012]
The Europeans are wise to this guy:
http://www.faz.net/aktuell/wirtschaft/wirtschaftspolitik/mitt-romney-der-kandidat-der-wall-street-11586962.html
America, heads up.
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