"You have to spend money to make money."
Jack glowered at the words on his computer screen. He'd heard or read them a thousand, thousand times. Ostensibly, it was true, if you're going to sell something to make a profit, first you have to spend capital to create or purchase that good or service. You cannot sell something you don't possess. Doing that was fraud. But that was never what people meant.
Never.
Not even once.
"You have to spend money to make money" was the rallying cry of the unprepared. It was what people said when they saw an opportunity and didn't have a plan on how to best capitalize on that opportunity. And as an accountant, it was Jack's job to say no. And he was good at his job.
Years ago, Jack was a professional wrestler. The Masked Bandicoot. You've probably never heard of him. He was a mid-card wrestler who got injured and decided to give the game up instead of making a comeback. His father had been a wrestler his whole life, and Jack had started young. He was wrestling from the age of twelve, and signed with the WWE at eighteen. He did pretty well for a new talent, but life on the road and never being home just wasn't his thing.
Jack didn't spend his money on hookers and drugs like the rest of his contemporaries. He saved up his cash and had about half a million dollars when he left the industry. He went to school and got a bachelor's in mathematics and a master's in accounting and economics, finishing early. He took his money and invested it. Some of the ventures made decent money, some failed spectacularly. His cash reserves were very low so that led him to taking a job with this company.
Which was what put him in the position he was in now. He had to say no to someone he had never met. Again. Whoever this person was had put forth a number of cost analysis requests. Granted, they were spotting all kinds of interesting opportunities, but the business plan wasn't in place. This was the seventh or eighth time he had to say no to them.
"You make money," he typed, "via a solid business plan with an analysis of the cost/profit ratio. The answer is no. Happy Halloween."
Jack hit send and logged off. Speaking of Halloween he had the perfect costume this year for the company ball. He was going as Rey Mysterio, the tiny wrestler. Proportionally, they were the same size, though Jack stood at six foot, while Rey Mysterio was much shorter. The costume was simple enough, a colorful full face mask, except for his mouth, and a loose pair of pants, leaving the incredible musculature of his torso fully exposed. Nobody at the company knew about his time as the Masked Bandicoot, so there was little chance they would recognize him as Rey Mysterio.
It was going to be a great night.
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OOC: Closed
Jack glowered at the words on his computer screen. He'd heard or read them a thousand, thousand times. Ostensibly, it was true, if you're going to sell something to make a profit, first you have to spend capital to create or purchase that good or service. You cannot sell something you don't possess. Doing that was fraud. But that was never what people meant.
Never.
Not even once.
"You have to spend money to make money" was the rallying cry of the unprepared. It was what people said when they saw an opportunity and didn't have a plan on how to best capitalize on that opportunity. And as an accountant, it was Jack's job to say no. And he was good at his job.
Years ago, Jack was a professional wrestler. The Masked Bandicoot. You've probably never heard of him. He was a mid-card wrestler who got injured and decided to give the game up instead of making a comeback. His father had been a wrestler his whole life, and Jack had started young. He was wrestling from the age of twelve, and signed with the WWE at eighteen. He did pretty well for a new talent, but life on the road and never being home just wasn't his thing.
Jack didn't spend his money on hookers and drugs like the rest of his contemporaries. He saved up his cash and had about half a million dollars when he left the industry. He went to school and got a bachelor's in mathematics and a master's in accounting and economics, finishing early. He took his money and invested it. Some of the ventures made decent money, some failed spectacularly. His cash reserves were very low so that led him to taking a job with this company.
Which was what put him in the position he was in now. He had to say no to someone he had never met. Again. Whoever this person was had put forth a number of cost analysis requests. Granted, they were spotting all kinds of interesting opportunities, but the business plan wasn't in place. This was the seventh or eighth time he had to say no to them.
"You make money," he typed, "via a solid business plan with an analysis of the cost/profit ratio. The answer is no. Happy Halloween."
Jack hit send and logged off. Speaking of Halloween he had the perfect costume this year for the company ball. He was going as Rey Mysterio, the tiny wrestler. Proportionally, they were the same size, though Jack stood at six foot, while Rey Mysterio was much shorter. The costume was simple enough, a colorful full face mask, except for his mouth, and a loose pair of pants, leaving the incredible musculature of his torso fully exposed. Nobody at the company knew about his time as the Masked Bandicoot, so there was little chance they would recognize him as Rey Mysterio.
It was going to be a great night.
------------------
OOC: Closed