"I don't care for the document!" Mr Crapy roared in the conference hall.

"You have signed the memorandum on the protection of the Last Forest." Mueller timidly lowered his head. Other managers shouted not wanting to provoke the boss to anger. "According to that, the Last Forest has to be saved, as natural good."

"What memorandum?!" Mr Crapy stood up and walked to the window. "Some shitty piece of paper! I have signed it. So what?! Wipe my ass with that memorandum." He looked at the city panorama and a hologram with the logo of his company which was flowing in the sky.

"But sir," Mueller said well-mindedly. "There are consequences for violation the memorandum."

"Consequences?" Mr Crapy turned back. "Really?" He got back and sat down. "That's already something serious. But..." He abstractedly looked in front of him. "I don't care!" He stood up firmly. "Fuck consequences! Fuck the Last Forest and all those dumb trees! I piss on them!" He walked towards windows again. "Fuck nature lovers and the Last Forest protectors!"

Mueller unloosed the collar while other managers looked to the folders before them.

"I hate you, Mueller," Mr Crapy looked straight to Mueller. "I hate you because you're reminding me of the memorandum. I hate you because you care about dumb trees."

"Actually, I don't," Mueller said. "But, my duty is to draw your attention to the consequences."

"Good for you," Mr Crapy smiled. "I was afraid you became a sissy, Mueller. But you're not."

Mr Crapy approached the table and drank a sip of water.

"You know, I love bucks," He continued. "I love it because it gives me the power and influence. I love bucks because I wanna fuck young supermodels. And bucks makes them spreading legs and suck my dick. I want my wife to go shopping while I fuck supermodels." He set down. "I want more bucks. That means I have to decrease my expenses. I need that road because I have to connect the company base to the mines. Know why? Because I won't pay for using other roads anymore."

"Excuse me, sir," manager Scott said. "Please allow me to say a word."

"Here you are," Mr Crapy looked at him inquisitively.

"Radical ecology movements can launch violent act on us if we cut down the Last Forest," Scott tried to bring to reason Mr Crapy.

"So?" Mr Crapy was loftiness. "There's police. Minister of police is my man. Every violent resistance to my decisions will be pent-up."

"They can try to dispute your decisions inflowing some other people in the government." Scott tried to warn Mr Crapy.

"You're right," Mr Crapy agreed. "But I can solve that. I'd not be here where I am if I'm not a good player."

Silence has reigned in the conference hall waiting for the sequel of Mr Crapy's monologue.

"After all," Mr Crapy continued. "Who needs that dumb forest? Some nature lovers who like to breathe fresh air? There's the best quality of fresh oxygen in my bars, they can go there to breathe. If they like walking in the forest, they can go to my nature parks. It's much safer them there. There's no branches that can fall on their heads, no roots peeking from the ground which can trip them down. All trees are a perfect imitation of the real. Boles and branches made of the finest plastics, lodes of the finest silicone and leaves of the finest nylon. No bugs, no spiders and other nauseous..."

There was no way to Mr Crapy to reason. Everybody knew that.