FREE PLUSH PONIES!

Wells Fargo demands that I adopt a fluffy widdle pony. They insist. Please print the coupon, please!
How can I possibly refuse to welcome a little stuffed animal into my home, he's just so adorable!
All that winsome equine love, if only I open an account with them.

I believe I can reject their offer. Doing so is actually essential.
For the pony. The poor beast would not survive.
If the other roomies didn't rip him limb from limb, several of them (the purple cat, the sock-sheep, and the cow with little pink bows) would ride him to death.

"Giddy up, silly little horse-person, I'm a cowboy!"

It's not that they're brutes. They just don't respect stuffed animals that look unbearably "cute".
That means that plush and entirely lacking any personality get short shrift.
Besides, the Wells Fargo Plush Ponies look like a bunch of wussies.

It takes a strong hand to deal with my roomies.
I myself am not always up to it. They keep talking back.
And trying to steal my wallet. Or the bowl of laundry quarters.

[They tend to be a disrespectful bunch, too. Delighting in the eloquent and creative put-down or totally inappropriate sneer. I get scant respect from that bunch, and have resorted to threatening them with severe punishment.
Just think of what they would do to some poor fuzzy Wells Fargo moron. ]


Given that on weekends my roommate is seldom around, and I usually go to the office for much of the day, there is plenty of reason to worry about them all alone in the apartment. Good thing none of them smoke, and they're all scared of the kitchen after that time that the oven door "accidentally" closed on the little she-sheep. Otherwise I'd come home to discover the place burned down and a bunch of sooty miscreants looking studiously innocent.

[In case you are wondering, the she-sheep managed to get out of the oven in time.
But the terrifying experience traumatized her severely.]


The other reason why I must refuse the plush pony is that I'm perfectly happy with my current bank.
I've been a customer for nearly twenty-two years. They're staffed by an ethnic group not known for making mathematical mistakes.
Whereas most banks seem to employ too many white people, black people, and Philippinos.
Yeah, I know, I sound a wee bit prejudiced.
About white people, black people, and Philippinos.
But I am a typical Dutchman in this regard; penny-pinching, skinflinting, waddingly tight, and just totally neurotic about accuracy when it comes to my checking account as well as paranoid about confidentiality.
Which is not an attitude that most banks understand.
Fuzzy plush animal giftiepoos notwithstanding.
I cannot be bribed with little icky horsies.
Account integrity demands resolve.

It's also a question of dignity.
Surely you understand that?



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