Let me tell you about my favorite case ever.

These people were the worst. Whole rich ass family went down on their luxury yacht somewhere off the coast of Malibu.These people. Quite deserving of the tortures of hell. Sweatshop owners. Human exploiters. Republicans. And don't even get me started on their personal lives.

Anyway they were filthy rich and imagined themselves tasteful, but in fact they had no taste whatsoever. Which is to say they had very bad taste, But could occasionally pay someone with taste to provide them with certain kinds of advice. I promise, it's relevant.

You see what they demanded was high society. They wanted a whole bunch of rich asshole friends to socialize with. And they wanted everyone. To have "immaculate, elegant" taste and style.

You know. Like they imagined that they had.

So. For once I made something exactly to order. Exactly. A whole glimmering set of stylish erudite jet setters. Power brokers with money and taste. For my victims to pal around with.

And I'm sure you can predict what happened. They found themselves wildly inadequate. They found their own dilettante level of exploration of art and taste and culture to be an embarrassment. They were shunned from this group they created for their enjoyment. Forever humiliated. Forever outcast.

They have spent decades plotting and scheming, trying to regain entry into the popular social group. So far they have failed every time.

Honestly, with a few tweaks I feel like I could license this one to HBO. Because they are STILL going at it. I will admit, I check in on this one more than the job requires.

Don't get me wrong, there's plenty of work I've done here that I'm very proud of. But this one. Chef's kiss!