Payback

It was preposterous! It was almost as if they knew him but chose to ignore that fact, not to mention his wealth, power, and prestige. That didn't sit well with him, and there was no way in hell they would get away with this slight. He was determined to make them pay. Nothing was better than hitting the swarm of bees in the press pool the second this charity event was over. Those reporters always loved his quick wit and the way he could spew bullshit like it was God's truth.

He'd call them out individually and tell them what they could do with their ignorance and high and mighty stance.

The crappy speech was over, and people began to mingle. He watched the fake smiles and laughter from the back of the room like they were thrilled to be here. He knew better. Charity events were a tax write-off dream, nothing more, nothing less—time for his grand exit.

A chuckle bubbled up as he thought about confronting a few in person. He could see it all so clearly.

Do you know who I am? He would emphasize every syllable of those six words, knowing some would wince.

He moved to the exit, stopping just in front of the door, going outside to his salvation, where he felt most at home, like himself.

He straightened his tie, cleared his throat, and forcedly opened the door.

Chatter erupted as he stepped outside and approached the crowd. His people were the ones who plastered his name and words worldwide and kept the internet buzzing for days.

He held up his hands to try and quell the questions.

"Mr. Grump, how was the charity event?" A reporter asked.


WC: 285

Prompt: "Do you know who I am?"