Brad

It was a dark, cold morning, in the New Delhi market place, i was a wealthy Indian merchant, dealing in indian quisine sauces. Today would be a good day, i had created a new range of sauces, known only as ''Uncle Brad's sauces". I was out with my young nephew Rajha, he was my executive manager, and was very innovative, always full of new ideas for the company. We had decided to get to the market before anyone else, to get the best spot, and parked up next to a flock of sheep. I got out of the van and went around the back to start unloading the goods, but out of the corner of my eye, i saw Rajha pull out a machete from his expensive fur coat. Then i haerd him say, ' Its time to hand over the business old man, and he swung the weapon towards my head. All i could do was hold up my hand in defense. as a result the harsh, cold blade teared through my left pinkie. The pain was unbearable, there was blood everywhere. All i could do was watch as he jumped into the van and drove away with my new sauces. Since then i have descended into poverty. I have lost everything, my business my home, my vast wealth, my 5th wife, but worst of all, my own nephew's loyalty. what a bastard. Now i am a hindu washer-woman in new delhi and live in a hut made from mud and dung. My nephew however, changed his name to Ben and renamed the sauces ' Uncle Ben's sauces'. That is my story, if you still want to add me, then a thousand thanks. By the way, you may be wondering how i manage to get onto the internet with my poverty, and the answer is, with great difficulty..