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I love how proud you are of that little Christmas bonus. All year long you dragged yourself out of bed, did everything you were told, smiled when you were supposed to, all for this one moment. And now you are standing in front of me, practically shaking with excitement, knowing exactly where that money is going. Straight into my hands. Where it belongs. Let me remind you of something. That bonus does not represent your hard work. It represents your purpose. Your money looks better with me holding it. I spend it better. I enjoy it more. You do not deserve to keep it, and deep down you know that. The only reason you even exist in my life is because you serve me financially. That is it. Without your wallet, you are nothing and nobody to me. I make it very clear how disposable you are outside of your usefulness. I do not need your personality. I do not need your opinions. I do not need your presence. I only need your obedience and your money. And watching you willingly hand over your end of the year bonus just to keep me around is exactly what makes this so delicious.