Wake up. Walk out onto the portico. Stretch as your handmaiden changes out your mattress’s caviar filling. Squint at the sun reflecting off the backs of the day laborers tending the gardens and cleaning the panda cages. Check your satellite phone. Note that the stock market is already up a quarter-percent. Stay rich.

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Meet up with the princelings in Macau. Play a spirited game of human backgammon using line workers from the Apple factory. Over bacon-wrapped snow leopard, take a call from your CEO/father. You’ve been re-elected to the board of directors. Light up a cigar packed with ground-up serfs. Stay rich.

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Charter a private jet that runs on teachers’ pensions. Take key Senators to Augusta National for a quick 18 holes. Over bacon-wrapped condor, secure a gentleman’s agreement that the latest bill aiming to raise the minimum wage won’t make it out of committee. Celebrate by drinking kitten’s blood champagne and foreclosing on old people. Stay rich.

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Exit the birth canal. Boom: you’re a Kennedy.

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Go sailing off the coast of Dubai in a yacht made entirely of dinosaur bones. Over bacon-wrapped dodo, make a wager with the ambassador’s daughter that bacon-wrapped diamonds will float. Best of seven. Either win or lose the wager. Stay rich.

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Spend the holidays in Aspen. In lieu of skis, hit the slopes with a poor person strapped to each foot. Feel the frosty air on your cheeks and the supple flesh under your boots as you breeze down the mountainside. Swing by the lodge. Over bacon-wrapped cocaine, receive the news that your grandfather has died, leaving you a sizable inheritance. Head back up the slopes with your human skis. That’s what Grandpa would have wanted. Hit the moguls.

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Get a job at your uncle’s hedge fund. Invest your clients’ money in the manufacturing sector. Move the money into the tech sector. Move the money into the mining sector. Move the money into the nation-building sector. Move the money into the sector sector. Collect your bonus. Celebrate by burning treasury bonds and snorting the ashes with bacon-wrapped prostitutes. Stay rich.

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Start a tontine. Systematically approach each member and pay them to commit suicide. Pay them extra to allow you to choose the method. On the death of the penultimate member, collect the capital. Break even money-wise, but gain a wealth of hilarious stories.

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Buy an auto parts factory. Scale back the workforce. Trim wages. Grant yourself Primae Noctis over the remaining employees and their families. Convert the factory into a non-union facility that makes cat food from used motor oil and shredded employee benefits forms. Visit the new facility for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. Look out over the picket lines. Smile at the protesters. Release the hounds. Stay rich.