Your Insurance Company is the company that currently provides your health insurance. They join us today to deliver a very special message to you, their valued customer.
Hello, you, our valued customer. It's me, your Insurance Company. How are you? Good? For your sake, I hope you stay that way, because I'm writing you today to cancel your coverage.
You see, we're not a charity. We're not here to be your friend, or save your beloved family members from cancer. Our only objective is to make as much money as we can from you and your stupid, sick family. And thanks to some top-notch lobbying, the Affordable Care Act is forcing you to not only buy our products, but to buy the shitty new versions we decided to make now that there's no need to entice new consumers. We're going to get rich as hell, and by all rights you should be kicking down our doors. Fortunately, you're still blaming Obama, so that's nice. Don't get us wrong! He played into our hands easily enough, under the pretense of compromise. But we're the ones who stand poised to receive the limitless torrent of money that's legally mandated to come our way. All he gets is shitty approval ratings. How's that for a healthcare exchange?
Some of you may have had your hours cut due to the changing requirements for large corporate entities. The excuse for that, of course, is that the company simply can't afford to pay for your insurance and continue giving you minimum wage on a full-time basis.
Hahaha, can you believe you suckers bought into that?
Every single top executive in these multi-national conglomerates can afford to snort buckets of cocaine off the wood of the True Cross. They can afford to paint the Abercrombie and Fitch Fall fashion line on the figures depicted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. They can afford to carve "I'm lovin' it!" on the moon with lasers. And they sure as hell can afford to pay their employees, like, 40-grand a year with full medical and dental coverage. Only the tiniest fraction of their astronomical wealth would be required. But they sure as shit aren't going to part with their hard-bribed gains, and neither are we.
The bottom line is this: You don't live in your country. You live in OUR country. You'll pay any fee, endure any penalty, and endure any prosecution we decide to throw your way. We're King Shit of Turd Mountain. You're a pile of cold diarrhea drying on the sidewalk.
Maybe one day you'll decide enough is enough. Maybe one day you'll storm our gates with pitchforks and torches, seeking to oust us like the Russian royal family or some CIA-backed middle-eastern despot. But when the militarized police demonstrate their loyalty to us, I wonder who's going to pay to fish the rubber bullet out of your eye socket. My advice? Get a good insurance plan.
With Questionable Sincerity,
Your Insurance Company
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