The Foolishness of Frugality

As I sit here in my chambers, surrounded by the cold, unforgiving walls that remind me of my unyielding resolve, I am often asked why I, of all people, would begrudge a few coins to those in need. It’s a question that’s been posed to me by my dear nephew, that foolish, weak-minded Fred, who can’t seem to grasp the concept of thrift. He thinks me a miser, a penny-pincher, but little does he know, my stinginess is not a result of greed, but a necessity, a requirement to survive in this unforgiving world.

My own childhood, a miserable existence in a boarding school, taught me the value of frugality. The memories of my schoolmates, laughing and carefree, while I remained alone, cold and hungry, still linger in my mind. It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy, and yet, it’s a pain that drives me to this day. My obsession with money is not about indulgence, but about self-preservation, a reminder that in this world, only the strongest, most ruthless, will survive.

And so, I continue to scrape and claw, to wrest every last penny from the depths of my clients’ pockets, and from the pockets of those who would try to deceive me. It’s a game I play with skill and precision, always staying one step ahead of the charlatans and the cheats. My reputation as a master of finance is well-deserved, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Bah humbug to those who would call me heartless, for in their weakness, I see only a reflection of my own strength.