The portly old man sports a white moustache, wears his morning suit with a red bowtie and he often tips his top hat thinking that he is J. P. Morgan. He sailed on the maiden and last voyage of the Titanic and actually gave up his seat on a lifeboat to the unsinkable Molly Brown, but that was mostly because that lifeboat wasn’t up to his standards, and he decided to wait for a better one. A better one did come along, one that gave him more elbow room and that is always the way it goes for the rich, the ones born with a silver spoon in their mouths. He knows that money makes the world go around and my Uncle Pennybags’ dreams are filled with money dropping out of the sky and falling right into his lap.
He bought some property in Atlantic City to support his bootlegging operation and his men would row out into the ocean to meet the Canadian smugglers. He paid off the police and the Feds to leave his operation alone and as long as they got their cut, they see, hear and speak no evil about him.
Written for Sadje at Keep It Alive What Do You See #97.