he mocked DEI initiatives. he mocked women. he mocked lower-paid service employees and viewed them all as beneath him. he believed that the poor and the desperate were lazy, had made bad decisions, that they deserved their miserable circumstances, and that he had worked hard for his station in life and that hitting all the norms (cackle) in society had nothing to do with it.

until.

one night, he was drinking and driving (because as a rich and high-ranking lawyer, he was either friends with or could pay off the authorities) and crashed, severing his tongue and badly damaging his vocal cords. his position and funds managed to save him from a criminal record, but no amount of money could give him back his voice.

he lost his job - he was no longer "efficient", he no longer "fit with the company's image" - because in his "fast-paced" industry, high-flying clients didn't have the time to wait for him to type or chicken-scratch, and the gurgling sounds he made when he forgot his condition and tried to speak were disturbing to their refined ears. no other law firm would hire him. even the service jobs that he once looked down upon wouldn't give him a chance, because how would he greet customers without a voice? "friends" with whom he had once shared many a "locker room joke" no longer spoke to him - because how could he expect to be included in their conversations if he could not converse?

he hadn't been diligent in saving, because he had assumed that his station in life was set in stone, that money would always be coming in. unused to his new circumstances, his funds ran out quickly. his house and car were repossessed. without the flow of cash to lubricate his path in life, he quickly learned just how easily the law he used to wield as a sword could come down on his own neck. a penalty for late rent. a fine for sleeping in public. a fine for not paying a fine.

the final straw came when he was sleeping on a park bench one night, and felt a bag of a few eggs gently tucked into the crook of his wing. he looked up - into the face of his former secretary. she whom he had ridiculed for graduating with third class honours, for never having risen above the rank of paralegal. she, whom he had once delighted in tormenting by giving work at 5.50pm so that she could never leave the office on time.

he couldn't take pity from her. he would rather perish. so when the mysterious being in regal white and gold offered him even the slightest fraction of a chance at regaining his former wealth in a battle royale, he signed his name before she could finish. after all, he still had his Big Muscles. right? right!?

TO THE OTHER TRIBUTES: please mess this guy UP. i do NOT want him back xDD