So I decided to open a business making toys for kids. Sure-fire cash cow. I mean, fuck, who doesn't wanna buy their screaming little monkeys some cheap plastic crap to shut them up once in a while?
So I start cranking this shit out, using nice, cheap labor from somewhere over in Asia. Who the fuck knows where? As long as the little worker bees keep their mouths shut and get to the factory on time.
And it's all a rousing success. Moms everywhere are eating up this low-budget crap like a honey badger in a room filled with cobras.
Everything's perfect. Until I get a note from the Federal Government.
Apparently a few of my products (which kids freakin' love by the way) have killed a few children somewhere in the square states.
And apparently, the plastic our Far Eastern plant uses is laced with some kind of chemical that may, possibly give anyone who touches it an incurable form of genital cancer.
So, the stupid government told me I need to cease and desist until I can figure out a way to keep the baby killing to a minimum and ensure consumers that their cocks won't fall off.
Bitches.
Why are the feds so fucking anti-business? All I'm trying to do is earn an honest buck and here comes Uncle Sam with his fucking rules trying to keep me down.
It's bad enough I have to pay almost 3 percent of my profits to that white-bearded fucker. Now he's got to get his grubby little paws all up in my manufacturing process? Shit.
Guess I'll just have to turn my attention to the ever growing African market. I bet you don't see politicians in Somalia telling honest businessmen what they can and can't put into their products.
Those Somali fuckers don't know how good they have it.
No comments:
Post a Comment