Our Mission:

Steal $4.6 Trillion from the little people of America. Here’s how:

Dear Billionaire—

Being a billionaire is for peasants. A billion dollars is chump change. We—The Custard Kings of Capitalism, The Butter-Basted Barons of Big Money—need Trillions. And we are so close.

Our fate now rests on some final changes our tax system.

It’s the heist of the century. A $4.6 Trillion jackpot (Trillion with that big, beautiful gleaming “T,” not that small-potatoes “B”) in tax cuts. Ripped straight out of the hands of those paycheck-to-paycheck plebes who still believe in “fairness” and “hard work.” Their retirement, their medications, whatever shred of hope they had left for financial freedom—will all be ours!

Just think of the Bitcoin bets we can place, the private islands we can escape to, and—if needed—one of those last premium seats to Mars once we’ve bled this planet dry.

So, how do we pass all the tax burden on to everyday Americans? 

Step 1: Pay to elect Comrade Trump to Manipulate And Gouge Americans (aka, MAGA) and raise tariffs—let them scream about drag queens while we steal their futures. Done. 

Step 2: Hand Comrade Musk that chainsaw and put him in charge of the Department of Gouging Everyone (DOGE). Check.

Step 3: Muster just enough GOP votes to pass the tax bill that will finally allow us to chainsaw our biggest enemies: Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid.

We can’t let a single Republican stray. We bought and broke America fair and square, and now we’re bringing it to its knees. Who cares if dirty coach-class planes crash or corporations pollute all waterways with no regulation? We will finally have our Trillions!

And if those work-for-a-living fools aren’t happy, they can #GoFundThemselves—because their nightmare is our dream. For we have a dream! A dream that one day, our children will not be judged by the content of their character, but by the market cap of daddy’s intergenerational hedge fund.

History bends toward oligarchy—because we’re paying it to.

Yours, in ruling-class solidarity,

—Olly Gark