If you had five billion you could hop from job to job, calling entitled customers idiots all across your city, putting the fear of You into every shithead in town until people become afraid to be rude to servers and cashiers, lest you emerge from the back room like some kind of manners-enforcing specter
“Surprisingly, Sergeant Detritus is perfect for the job. He’s good with children and Sam loves the piggyback rides. … And I can rest easy because no one is going to dare lay a finger on my son as long as Detritus is around.”