Broken Billionaire

The sun rises once again shining upon the land. On a grassy hill sits a massive mansion that is both broad and tall. The mansion is over ten decent sized rooms wide and four floors tall in some spots. A few peaks on the house contain secret attic rooms.

Who could afford a mansion this large? Well, it belongs to none other than Fislind Fislinni, a well known billionaire. Or…at least…it used to belong to him…but, let’s not get ahead of ourselves! Fislind acquired his father’s riches and an empire in the fish sandwich industry.

Our billionaire friend is waking up with the sunrise. Although he needn’t lift a finger to obtain more wealth in his business, he has set himself a little routine he has followed since the death of his father. Dressed in his finest light blue silk night shirt and shirts, Fislind slips on his blue googly eye fish slippers. With a chuckle, he does a little twirl and heads to the mirror to wink at his reflection.

“Well, hello, handsome!” Fislind says, gently smoothening his blonde mustache. “Ready for morning coffee, I see?”

Fislind’s stomach grumbles. He ate quite a lot for dinner, but that was HOURS ago. He chuckles and heads to his kitchen knowing plenty of food awaits him. Humming merrily, he starts up a cup of premium blend coffee and then whistles for his attendants.

“Heeeeeyyyy! Help me out, will ya?!” Fislind calls out.

Quickly, five different attendants rush to Fislind’s aid. One guides him to his seat and then massages his shoulders. Another attendant gets down on hands and knees and gently massages each foot before returning them to their slippers. Meanwhile, the other three attendants prepare a breakfast feast for Fislind.

The coffee finishes brewing and the foot massaging attendant takes it. Carefully, some sugar and creamer is added to the coffee. Fislind grins as his coffee is brought to him at a temperature just low enough that it won’t damage his mouth. Not long later, the breakfast is finished.

A spread of sweet crepes, scrambled eggs, sausage links, an egg and ham omelette, and bacon strips are brought to the table. Everything is made from the most expensive of each grocery item that they could find. No expense was spared in this breakfast. The dining table is made from pure gold and, overhead, there is a chandelier made from real diamonds and more gold plating.

“Now THIS is the life!” Fislind exclaims, relaxing as the attendants proceed to feeding him forkfuls of food.

“No…this is OUR life!” some guy announces, waltzing into the room with a sheet of paper.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” Fislind asks, realizing he doesn’t recognize this person as one of his attendants or employees.

“Your house? No… This is MY house now. OUR house,” the guy says.

A few more strangers appear looking rather threatening. They each carry with them a weapon ranging from small handguns to baseball bats and fire pokers. Fislind’s heart sinks as he realizes he cannot save himself. As it turns out, the paper denotes that these strangers now have the right to own the house they have been living in.

“It’s been 10 years! How did you not see us living here?” the leader asks with a sneer. “We legally own this place now. So you better leave… Or we’ll FORCE you out!”

“YOU CAN’T TAKE MY HOUSE! I NEED THIS PLACE!” Fislind cries out, eyes bugging out of his skull.

“Force it is…” the leader says, shrugging as though it’s no big deal.

Fislind screams in agony. Not even his attendants have the strength to fight off the intruders. It’s over… The billionaire has fallen and the squatters have arisen the victors! Who cares about billionaires anyhow, right? Surely nobody will care… ~Fade to black~

~Bright light shines, gradually growing harsher~ Welcome to the city of Ogarl! Here, some of the richest in the country live right alongside some of the poorest in the country. Although the divide between these two groups is massive, they all have one thing in common; a desire to get richer! Unlike a lot of well known cities with their towering skyscrapers, Ogarl is known for it’s plethora of transportation options and office buildings.

A network of trains spans both above and below ground here, allowing riders to get off at their respective work zones. On the ground, five different bus systems are busy transporting people to and fro. There’s also the rideshare program that resides here, letting people carpool in comfort. Almost any area is walkable with wide city sidewalks…and if that doesn’t interest you, you can also rent bikes from various kiosks (just, please, remember to bring the bikes back…).

However, Ogarl City is not without its issues… Crime rates are very high with theft and assault happening pretty much daily. Secondly, a good portion of the residents…are homeless. The average man would not bat an eye at the homeless who gather at street corners and around the bus lot, begging for food, money, and water.

Nobody cares about the plight of the homeless. Nobody cares that they are humans, too, and not all of them are homeless from their own poor choices. Speaking of… ~Enter Fish, a very scrappy looking homeless man who appears to have just crawled out of a gang fight with his life by a thread.~ Fish has been spotted a lot lately and appears to be having the hardest time living the harsh life out on the streets.

“Hot by day… Cold by night… Boy do I miss controlled temperature environments…” Fish mumbles, stopping and staring up at some leaves which are turning orange. “Who would have thought…”

Fall has come. Before long, winter will come and freeze everyone to the core. Fish knows this well. If he doesn’t figure out a plan of action now, things might be rather bleak.

“What’s a guy to do with no food or water? No shelter over my head. Things I never would have given a second thought to before…” Fish stops pacing, licking his dry lips.

Fish is thirsty; very thirsty. He begins frantically searching for something…ANYTHING to drink. Despite not having any mother to break the back of, he carefully steps over a few cracks in the sidewalks. Passerbys give him dirty looks, exclaiming in disgust as he passes.

“Water… I need water… They say you die of dehydration faster than you die of hunger…” Fish mumbles, panic surging through him.

He searches a few trash cans in his desperation, but…these have been emptied recently. Eventually, he spots a water source! Connected to one of the city buildings is a spigot used to water nearby plants and spray off the sidewalk. Fish’s eyes light up as he recognizes this contraption as a potential life saving device.

With fingers trembling in anticipation, Fish turned the spigot on. Water began to spew out. Like a man in a desert finding an oasis, he drops to his bloody beaten knees and begins slurping the water up. The water rinses a bit of the mud and blood off his face.

“Mmmmm, refreshing…” Fish moaned, splashing a bit of the water on his weary face.

The happy moment is quickly ended. One of the shopkeepers notices the water has been turned on. He emerges from his shop and sees Fish slurping up water to his heart’s content. The shopkeeper begins yelling, waving his arms in the air like a woodsman trying to scare off a bear.

“YOU! GET OUT OF HERE! THAT’S MY WATER! I DON’T PAY THESE GOSH DARNED HIGH WATER BILLS JUST FOR LOW LIVES LIKE YOU TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT!” the shopkeeper yells.

Fish lifts his face from the water stream, looking a bit baffled. The shopkeeper then throws an empty plastic water bottle at him, striking him on the head. Fish, with a look of defiance, fills the water bottle with the spigot water and leaves. More angry shouts are heard as the homeless man takes off at a casual pace down the bustling city sidewalk.

“Too bad I couldn’t take more water… Perhaps I drank a bit too much,” Fish mutters.

His torn and tattered blue green shirt is now a bit tight along his abdominal region. He found this shirt in the trash and has been wearing it ever since, but…it’s so torn and ruined that he should consider finding a new shirt. Not to mention the stench as he has no way to wash his clothes. There’s an old timey laundromat in town, but…that costs money, something Fish doesn’t have.

After walking for a bit, Fish found himself a nice little tree to sit under. It’s a Witch Hazel tree, so it doesn’t really give much shade thanks to the narrow leaves…or, what leaves remain. Fish glances up, bottle of water in one hand, and just watches the leaves take flight in the gentle breeze. Just like him, the leaves must let go of what they once had. As he is looking up, Fish just so happens to make eye contact with someone, a woman.

“Yes?” Fish wonders.

~To be continued~