"There is a small island in the Bay of Bengal called Malderiki, upon which I own a large mansion. Every year after the first rain, the Newport Beach Wine Society (of which I am a member) gathers at my mansion to watch the island's natives grovel in the mud as their pathetic straw dwellings are ripped apart by the rising waters. On this island there is also a fish, called a Piranha Giganticus. Coinciding with the first rain, this fish swims into the flooded island and begins to feed on the older and weaker natives of Malderiki. Unable to defend themselves from the killer fish and utterly helpless, the natives make their way to my mansion in makeshift canoes. At this point, the Newport Beach Wine Society opens a bottle of pre-revolution French Chardonnay, dated no later than 1760, and places wagers on which native will be the first to reach the high ground of my sprawling lawn. Once the fish has fed and returned to the Sea, there are typically a handful of natives left on my lawn, at which point we activate the electric fence and release the crocodiles. Last year, during the crocodile feeding, a tiny speck of native flesh was flung from the lawn up to the balcony where the Newport Beach Wine Society was gathered and landed on my shoe. I retrieved the piece of flesh and placed it in my mouth, washing it down with a glass of Moldovan Pino Griggio. Right now, YOU are that piece of flesh."
"There is a small island in the Bay of Bengal called Malderiki, upon which I own a large mansion...
>"As a young child I saw my Mother relentlessly beaten by my Father. I can still recall hearing her muffled screams through the walls of my bedroom as I lay trying to fall asleep. Some nights were worse than others, but I remember the mornings my Grandmother would take me to school because my Mother couldn’t be seen in public. She would wear sunglasses and long sleeve shirts for weeks while the bruising and swelling slowly healed around her eyes and arms. I never understood how something as simple as an overcooked meal or spilt glass of wine in the living room could send my Father into these inexplicable fits of rage; not until this very moment. Not until I saw your presentation. You are the stain on my fathers Afghan rug and I see no club soda nor salt to scrub you away. For an investment of 250,000 dollars I will retain 92% of your company with a lifetime of royalties and if you even for one second glance in Lori’s direction, I will personally crucify each of your children."
>"Have you ever imbibed a glass of black rhinoceros blood? Of course not, I was just being colloquial to start this story with an anecdote. The first time I had a glass I was in South Africa, taking a celebratory drink in Johannesburg after completing a successful hunt. You see, in South Africa they don't hunt lion, or elephant. We hunted a more dangerous game: the kaffir, or black man. I finally had a 7 year old boy cornered in an Oingo Bongo merchandise warehouse when the thoughts passed through my mind: Should I pull the trigger? Can I ever come back to who I was before this moment? I pulled the trigger, made my first 100 million dollars. Mr. Johnson, this is something you need to ask yourself: can I pull the trigger on this deal and make thr right choice? 10% funding for 85% ownership and prima nocte rights to your daughters."
>"Let me re-explain my position in a way in which you'll understand. I have a Honduran housekeeper named Rosa, barely speaks a lick of English. One morning during breakfast Rosa walks into the dining room and hands me a handwritten note in broken English, a note which must have taken her over a hour to piece together. Rosa's only daughter just got engaged and she wanted to know what kind of wine to serve when she and her husband hosted the two families for an engagement party this weekend, within their price range of course. I signal to Rosa to stay here and that I'll be right back. A few minutes later I walk back into the dining room and hand Rosa a bottle of wine. She immediately begins to cry. Why you ask? Often Rosa works in the kitchen and she sees my chef's receipts. I have a bottle of wine with each dinner and Rosa knows that she never brings a bottle to my table that costs less than $10,000. Now Rosa is a proud woman. At first she refused my gift. I communicated to her that I wouldn't accept no for an answer and she finally agreed to accept my gift while at the same time informing me that she will not be accepting a Christmas bonus from me this year. See, Rosa comes from nothing. She and her husband Ernesto raised their four sons and one daughter on the incomes of a housekeeper and day laborer. They refused to take any form of government assistance because they believe that they owe America, not that America owes them. The day after the party, Rosa's daughter came by my home to personally thank me for the bottle of wine. She told me that the bottle was split amongst all of the guests at the party, just enough wine in each glass that each person was able to have a taste following a toast that her father gave in my honor."
these are some damn good copypastas
>"Right now you're probably thinking, "Wow, that's a touching story, but what does this have to do with my presentation?" See, what I never told Rosa was that the bottle of wine I gave her wasn't from my personal wine cellar. Rather, it was a bottle of Two Buck Chuck that I keep in my garage because the acidity cleans the grease right off my hands after I get done working on my 1960 Porsche RS60. How was I able to get away with this? It is because I am perceived as a winner. You are perceived as a loser. For that reason, I'm out."
/r/ing the rug one
>prima nocte rights to your daughters
I love Kevinpasta
This shits on taxposting.
GIVE ME 96.7989% OF YOUR BUSINESS YOU LITTLE KEK OR I WILL END YOU. YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO DECIDE. 3-2-1 OKAY YOU'RE DEAD TO ME. FUCK OFF
>"Let me give you some advice. Do not go into retail, it is a savage place. Last year I invested in the toy business KinderKids. If my marketing specialists did their job you have never heard of them. You see, I was competing for retail space with Mattel. To flush me out they replaced the plastic we used with lead. Over a thousand children died. Like I said, it is a savage place. Of course, in response, I used my influence with Mattel to have all of their children's products shipped with one adult Brazilian Wandering Spider. The casualties are still climbing to this day. When I look at you, I do not see someone capable of making tough business decisions."
>"And for that reason, I'm out."
Fantastic.
"Did you know that I own more than 75% of Nebraska's wheat production? I purchased my first few acres there when a farmer had to sell them to afford the large number of surgeries and medication his ill children needed, due to the harmful effects of their school being so close to a local factory I happened to own. I paid that desperate man in cash... sorry, let me rephrase: I paid him in coins. Pennies, to be exact. Throwing them at his feet while his children cried hysterically in the background, held back by my bodyguards. Then I burned the entire plantation down right before his very eyes. What I'm trying to say is that your business is like that plantation. Of course I could give you the spare change you so badly need to keep your company afloat and make some decent money in return, but I would take more pleasure in watching your life fall to pieces around you and laugh about it. And for that reason, I'm out."
>"In the western foothills of the European Alps, there is a humble lodge by the name of Chateau du Montaine Demure, where the owner, a relative of Otto Vanderbilt, holds a yearly reenactment of the Carthagian warlord Hannibal crossing the Alps in his 218 AD venture into the Roman Republic. He would import endangered African elephants using requisitioned Chinook helicopters from his contacts in the Portuguese military to the snow-capped lodge and throw them down the side of the mountain. We watched at least a hundred elephants fall to their deaths. The fifty or so men, all recently arrived refugees from conflicts in Africa and the Middle East, who were promised Norwegian citizenship in exchange for their participation, were attempting to restrain the terrified beasts on the treacherous path when the first animal went over the side, triggering a small avalanche. The screams of the men as they tumbled, just terrible, dreadful. It was during one of the major re-enactments the next day, with a fresh supply of refugees obtained from one of the many NGOs I own, that the owner of the Chateau du Montain Demure demanded a bottle of the driest scotch he could find. A toothless Sudanese child ran through the snow and collapsed at Mr. Vanderbilt's feet, his skeletal arms struggling to lift the bottle. Otto took a swig and looked into the dark storm-front of the approaching blizzard. "Increase the elephants." We saw at least another 2000 kilos of ivory go over the side of that icy gorge before that blizzard came. We left the survivors to freeze to death. This brings me to the stuffed elephant opposite your seat. Do you want to be Hannibal? Do you want to sack Rome that badly? How many elephants need to die? Here, have a swig of this. Canadian scotch, 1963. Please taste it. It's the driest I could find. Ninety percent ownership in your company and a signed contract of indentured servitude for the lifetime of every single child you and your wife produce."
>Kevinposting
Fucking kek, thank you Sup Forums
>"Many years ago, as a young man who was still in possession of more money than your entire state is worth, I was walking through Central Park in Manhattan by my lonesome. It was a beautiful night, the distant sounds of that putrid city and its miserable inhabitants creating a certain atmosphere which I enjoyed immensely. As I strolled throughout the park towards the city block I had purchased the previous day I heard the muffled screams of a woman in distress, and just a few yards away I came across the source, a teenage girl with two strapping young black thugs on top of her. We briefly made eye contact and I could see a look of complete desperation in her gaze, a call for help of sorts. I kept on walking. Her muffled screams got louder as she realized that there was no hero in this story, no light at the end of the tunnel, no one to save her from the arms of the men viciously raping her. She was a lost cause. We both knew that. Your strategy has yet to show ANY inkling of a profit, and frankly, your product has no market. You are that woman I didn't help. And because of that, I'm out."
My sides
/r/ing rug
bump for more
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it? That's what it is to be a slave. Six! Seven! Go to Hell or go to Heaven! GOOD! THAT'S THE SPIRIT!
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. And, for that reason, I am out.
>tfw not classy enough to make these
I demand more
,
doesn't take much effort
>"About thirty years ago, when I was still a young man, I spent some time in Angola. I was there to oversee the acquisition of several diamond mines. Now I don't expect you to know anything about Angola, or anything outside of whatever utterly irrelevant town you come from, but to do business in that part of the world at that time you had to do business with the warlords. I was staying at the estate of a warlord who controlled government aligned guerrilla forces because I was told he was the man I needed to speak to if I was to gain control of the mines. On the second night I was there his soldiers brought around 100 prisoners to us: villagers who were aiding the rebels, they said. Men, women, and children. The warlord turned to me and said "I do not do business with a man I do not know. Show what kind of a man you really are." He drew his pistol and placed it in my hand. "No," I said. "Not like this." I returned his pistol to him. I instead picked up a machete that was lying in the dirt. "Like this," I said. The things I did over the next five hours I will never speak of, but when it was done he sold me the mines. Those mines are still operational and highly profitable to this very day. So, for a 90 percent share in your business I will invest, if you can show me what kind of a man you really are. No, not here. Buy a ticket to somewhere in West Africa. Only in the dark corners of the world can you truly take the measure of a man."
KIKE
he's a FUCKING
KIKE
>"I own a large penthouse in Ho Chi Minh, from which I direct the majority of my Vietnamese working force. I was last there two summers ago, facilitating a merger between my company and a smaller, local one. The details of that arrangement are irrelevant to this conversation, what's important is how my associates and I celebrated the closing of that deal. Though it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, I find this to be one of my favorite experiences of the South Asian high life. We payed off the local coast guard of the city so that they would allow us access to 45 of their rescue helicopters, as well as ample pilots to fly them. During the next several weeks any time an SOS call was received myself and a few others would be flown out from the helicopter pad on the top of my penthouse out to the location of the call, and we would have our fun with whatever situation we found ourselves in. My personal favorite of those outings was one of our first, where we found ourselves rescuing a young girl and her father from a sinking ferry. We threw her father unceremoniously overboard - unimaginative, I know - but I paused upon viewing the girl. She couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old, and her arm ended a few inches past her shoulder, likely due to the large amounts of agent orange remaining in the area. Watching her flail and struggle to stay afloat despite her disability infused me with a sense of awe at humanity's strength of will, fighting even when there is no hope for survival. Your product is like that little girl. It may be cute and endearing to even the most grizzled businessman, but without my help it will die as she did. 85% stock in your company for $500,000, and I personally get to use you and your wife as my sex slaves for the next ten years. If you don't agree within the next 12 seconds, I'm out."
kevinposting is the most criminally underrated Sup Forums meme
>Sometimes, when I least expect it, a strange feeling of elation comes over me. My face gets very warm. My heart begins to beat very fast, then very slow. My lips curve upwards to reveal the teeth within. The world pulsates. Angels sing. Things glow. The first time I felt this way, it was while in the embrace of my father. His hands were around my neck and he was crying because I had just bought out his business for pennies and driven him into bankruptcy. That was a good day. The second time I felt this feeling was the day my son was born. When I went to the hospital vending machine to buy a Twix, two fell out instead. That was an amazing day. What is the point of this anecdote, you ask? The point is this: when I look at your product, I don't feel that feeling. I don't feel anything besides disgust and overwhelming contempt. And for that reason, I'm out.
>He drew his pistol and placed it in my hand. "No," I said. "Not like this." I returned his pistol to him. I instead picked up a machete that was lying in the dirt. "Like this,"
heh
>You know, scientists just discovered that sharks can contract cancer. And that makes me happy. Because I don't consider myself a shark like the tide pool chum sitting next to me. I am that cancer, I am a malignant, incurable, disease that can strike at any moment, I am the biggest killer in the civilized world. Last year 20,000 of my employees died in the workplace, all I had to do was give the relevant government official 100 gold bars to look the other way. So here's my offer, 70% of your company and I'll call off the hitman I hired before we started filming. You have 20 seconds before he takes the shot
>There is a critically endangered species of catfish which only lives in a lake on my private resort in Thailand. I could have nurtured those catfish and bred them to save them from extinction. But there was a remote chance that there were silver deposits at the bottom of the lake so I had it dynamited and drained. We didn't find any silver but I was still satisfied because those fish hadn't done anything to earn my respect. They just swam around doing enough to subsist. If you're wondering where I'm going with this, it's a metaphor for how I'll deal with your business. I want 110% of the company and your entire family will be my slaves in perpetuity.
>Robert, do you have an offer?
>Double the money you're asking for 1% of the company and I'll be your best friend forever
>We're going to have to go with Kevin
So... FUBU
bumping a thread with effort put into it
this is a great thread
thats... actually quite a nice gesture of him
see
>"Last night I was feeling bored. Since I have already slept with every Asian prostitute in this city I decided to do something different. I instructed my driver to take Sergei, who is the chief of my security, and I deep into the heart of the city. As we were driving I noticed a homeless man panhandling, with a cup for donations next to him. I instructed my driver to pull over. Sergei and I got out of the car, and I nodded at Sergei. He proceeded to savagely beat the man while I picked up his cup. In it was fourteen dollars and thirty-nine cents. I have that money, here, in the pocket of my jacket. You can have it in exchange for 80 percent of any revenue your business makes."