Your sole purpose is to give me everything you have; it’s the only way to appease me. You can’t satisfy me physically or romantically—I won’t allow it. For years, you’ve searched for your role, and fortunately, you’ve found it. A loser’s duty is to serve however I see fit, and for you, that means spending. Cash is your only path to my happiness. Isn’t that what you desire, to see me pleased? It should be. Your sole existence hinges on my satisfaction; failing to achieve that renders you worthless. I understand it sounds demanding, spending endlessly, but envision the joy on my face. Perhaps one day, if you’re fortunate, I’ll flaunt something your pathetic cash purchased in a clip. Imagine the rush of emotions, making all your sacrifices worthwhile. You don’t deserve the luxury of cash—I do.
