All about the Cash

"No! Goddamnit! I hit him like five fucking times with my sniper and he still comes over and fucks me! Fucking cheaters!"

A shirtless teenager with a headset sits in in front of a big flatscreen and holds a controller in his right and a plastic bottle in his left hand. He stares at the screen, which says: Killed by xxX Reaper Xxx. Respwan in ten, nine, eight... In the background lies a dead soldier, on which another one rapidly kneeles and stands up again.

"Yeah, sure! Fucking teabag me!"

"Chill, man. It stands three to one. Flawless is save.", a voice from the headset says.

"It's not about that, bro! This guy killed me for the seventh time now and that's just because he lags like shit!"

"Or maybe you''re just a noob."

"Fuck you!"

"Aw, shit. Two guys left. A titan and a hunter. The titan used his super."

"Why didn't you just use your golden gun, man?!"

"Cause they killed me before I could use it."

"Great. Three to two now. I swear, if I have to this all over again just for the lighthouse then-"

"Michael?", a high pitched voice says.

The boy turns around. A little girl stands before the open door to his room. He looks back to his game.

"What do you want, Sophia? I'm really busy at the moment."

"I wanted to invite you to the tea party in my room."

Oh, fuck. Not that shit again...

"I can't. I have to win trials of osiris this week."

"Maybe later?"

"No. Nightfall strike."

"B-but princess Luna comes and I promised her that you will be there."

The little girl tears up.

"Well, and I'm the king of china."

"That's not true!"

"And!? So's your fucking princess!"

"She is real! You'll see!"

Sophia runs out of Michaels sight.

Little sisters, the worst thing you can have...

The gaming session (and the yelling) goes on for at least three hours until Michael finally decides to go to bed. But before he does that the young man opens his closet and takes his purse out.

Let's see...

He begins to count his 'hard earned' money. It's not really a small amount for a sixteen years old boy. Five hundred dollars. However, Michael seems to be very disappointed.

Five hundred dollars in a month...at this rate I'll never be a millionaire!

He throws the purse against a wal and turns off the lights.

It's not fair! I deserve to be rich! I spent my whole life making money! I sold lemonade! Lemonade goddamnit!

"C'mon god, I just want a chance. That's all I ask for", Michael preys.

And so he falls asleep, dreaming of a better life.