First, send a registered letter to your senator...on nice fake company stationary...identifying yourself as a CEO of a Christmas Tree farm in the middle of Jasper, Bama. Weep over the profits and losses...talk about evil Republicans who took away your chance to ship Christmas trees to Argentina or Tonga, then mention that you have a degree from Harvard, Princeton, Colombia, or Yale. End it with a idea you had for carbon-free Christmas trees and environmentally-friendly Christmas trees. The senator is a dope....so he won't know what the heck you are talking about.
Expect a letter quickly back from the senator...asking how much would be necessary to fix your problem. You’d be happy with $800 but then figure...what the heck....ask for $8 billion. A week later, the senator responds that he can fix this up for $5 billion but you need to help his daughter get a major job in your Christmas tree company. So you settle up, and hire his daughter as the Manhattan director of sales for your corporation.
The senator asks where to send the money, and you identify a off-shore account in the Bahamas. You fly over a week later and talk to the bankers there and arrange for the purchase of a Vegas hotel for $3 billion...using your Christmas tree company as a bogus front. The Vegas hotel renames itself “Santas Workshop”. After twelve months....you’ve bankrupted the casino entirely, and you ask the Senator for $12 billion to help the casino carry on. He sends you another free check.
You use most of that check to buy up all of the fishing and lure manufacturing companies in the US....to corner the market in fishing lures. The sad thing is that you accidentally hired a Yale/Harvard economics graduate....and your business folds up in a year or two. So then you ask for more bailout....and the senator sends another $12 billion check.
This time, you buy up a TV network that specializes in Yale & Harvard economics ideas. They flush your money down the toilet in less than five weeks.
Eventually, you retire to Brazil with $80k and just sit on the beach drinking cheap booze. Bail-out mania took the pleasure of fraud out of your life...it just ain’t a good feeling anymore. You can remember the days when you actually worked for a living...made a good check....and didn't know anyone from Harvard, Yale, Princeton or Colombia. These were the good ole days.
Then your cellphone rings there on the beach....the senator hasn't heard from you in a year....and wanted to know if you wanted another $5 billion in bailout. You sit there and pause...sipping the cheap booze, with a smoke in your hand....and then smile. God looks after the innocent, children and fools.