We Don’t Even Need to Make This be About MONSTROUS
Its status of being arguably the best book ever written is beside the point. Let’s just say that I’m a streetcorner bum who is playing the guitar badly. I really just need the money. And I’m doing what I can in my own feeble way to justify my continued existence. If you’re a good commie like my best friend from childhood, Satan, alias Ronnie Croy Barrel, I’m sure you’ll come around to seeing things my way.
Ronnie had a thing about shoplifting for fun. A can of pop here, a candybar there– “Butterfinger” being his favorite. Endearingly enough, however, after he had his fun he’d return to the store he had robbed and pay his monthly bill, with a flourish dropping a big pile of money well in excess of what he owed. From each according to his ability, to each according to his need. Just to show up the cops, and The Public loved him dearly.
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