Mitt Vanderbilt sat admiring his blanket made out of hundred dollar bills. He couldn’t get a peaceful night’s sleep without money touching his bare skin. Hanging on the walls surrounding him were paintings from around the world appraised to be worth millions of dollars. He climbed out of bed and walked into his bathroom which was the size of a typical person’s whole apartment. He admired himself in the mirror. He was a tall, handsome man with a defined chin. Anybody could tell from his distinguished appearance he was made of money. He was the president of a multi-billion dollar corporation that made its money on the backs of minimum wage workers − his slaves as he referred to them. He didn’t feel guilty for making his money off of the unfortunate. As he told his business partners: the reason people worked for minimum wage was because they were lazy.
“You are a powerful man. Now go make some more billions,” he said to his reflection.
He walked into the main room of his mansion while watching the daily business report on his smartphone. His maid, Rosita, was vacuuming. He ignored her as he walked into the dining room. He sat down at the table as his kitchen staff prepared his breakfast. His butler, Jared, poured him a cup of Kopi luwak, one of the most expensive coffees in the world. He never looked up to acknowledge them as he watched the report on the smartphone. He never paid any attention to his servants.
After getting dressed for another day at the corporate office, he walked outside where his limo driver was standing, waiting for his arrival.
“Good day, sir. To the office?”
Mitt nodded his head as he sat down on the backseat.
While driving through the city, Mitt glanced up briefly and noticed a long line of people bundled up in cheap coats outside of a church.
“What’s going on over there?”
“It’s the food bank. It’s the Tuesday before Christmas.”
“Damn takers! If it wasn’t for that damn forty-seven percent, I wouldn’t have to pay so much in taxes! Why are people starving? I’ll tell you the answer! They are too lazy to get a real job!”
Mitt sat at the conference table at the corporate office listening to the board members discussing the plans for making more billions in 2015. He sat there salivating at the thought his net worth would increase again next year. The more money he possessed, the happier he was. After the meeting was over, he headed for his favorite Five-Star restaurant. As he exited his limo, a homeless lady walked over to him.
“Sir, can you spare a couple of dollars so I can get something to eat.”
“Get away from me. I don’t give money away to peasants.”
“I lost my job. I’m forced to live on the streets.”
“Not my problem. Any intelligent person would have gotten another job. It’s not that difficult. Now get out of my way. I haven’t eaten in a couple of hours and I’m starving.” He pushed her aside.
“Jesus said it is hard for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”
He stopped and turned toward her. “The only reason I would want to go to Heaven is I heard the streets are made of gold.” He walked away from her and entered the restaurant.
That night, after watching the stock market reports, he went to sleep. He dreamed he was swimming in a pool of liquid gold. Outside the pool, there were several poor people staring at him in awe. He climbed out of the pool, and they all bowed down in front of him. He stepped on each one of their backs as he walked forward. He smiled as everybody worshipped him. With the amount of money he possessed, he was a god. He knew how the Egyptian kings must have felt back in the days of old.
The sound of his alarm woke him from his dream. He slowly climbed out of bed and felt a sharp pain shoot up his foot. He lifted his leg, and a large rock was stuck to the bottom of his right foot. He looked at it closely. It was no ordinary rock. It was a lump of coal.
“What the hell? Is this some sort of joke? Whoever left this here is fired!”
He took a step forward and stepped on another lump of coal. He slowly walked toward the light switch, stepping on another one and then another one. He turned the light on and his whole bedroom floor was covered in lumps of coal. He slowly opened the door, and a large pile of coal fell toward him knocking him backward. He slowly crawled over the pile of coal. He saw no coal on the floor leading to his bathroom. He quickly walked into the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His robe, face, and arms were covered in coal dust.
He turned on the faucet. No water came out. He heard a loud clinking sound coming from it. A few seconds later, small pieces of coal fell out. He stepped backward and tripped on a large lump of coal. He fell into the bathtub and felt sharp pains in his back. The whole bathtub was filled completely with large lumps of coal. He struggled to pull himself up. All the walls in his bathroom were covered in coal dust.
He cautiously headed for the kitchen. None of his kitchen staff was in the dining room or in the kitchen. He couldn’t find any of his servants anywhere. He grabbed his coat and walked outside. The snow was black. He felt something hit his shoulder. He looked down and saw a large lump of coal by his feet. A large lump of coal hit him in the head. He looked up and saw coal falling from the sky.
“Is this some sort of punishment? It’s not my fault I’m filthy rich!”
He could see a large mob of people wearing ratty clothing rushing toward him. He recognized most of them. They were the people he saw the other morning waiting in line at the food bank. They were all carrying large lumps of coal. As they drew nearer, they threw the coal at him. He tried turning the knob on his front door, but it was locked. He screamed as the angry mob pelted him with coal. Each one of the mob’s bodies transformed from a human one to a demonic one. He closed his eyes and when he reopened them, he was lying in a fiery pit surrounded by the demons.
“Help me,” he pleaded.
The demons laughed and continued to pelt him with lumps of coal for all eternity.
Rosita placed the pillow she had just suffocated Mitt with neatly next to his head. She smiled as she stared at his carcass.
Jared walked over to her and put his arms around her waist. “I know the combination to his safe. We can now afford the dream vacation we’ve always talk about.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said and kissed him.