Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net _He was worse than Dillinger, the James Boys, Captain Kidd and Benedict Arnold put together--all because he was_ FILTHY RICH BY FRED SHEINBAUM [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, April 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The Thursday morning executive meeting of the General Products Corporation was adjourned, as usual, with the Consumer's Pledge. The same pledge recited each morning by children in schools across the nation. J.L. Spender, Assistant Vice-President of Cotter Pin Production for Plant Five was proud to put in these extra Thursday mornings. Let the common herd work their three day, twenty-one hour week. He was part of the management team, working behind the scenes, constantly raising the standard of living of the American Consumer. A silent elevator whisked J.L. to the roof of the Administration Building where the heliport attendant rolled out his new helicopter, a June, 1998 Buick Skymaster. It was a sculpture in chrome and plexiglass; a suitable vehicle for the assistant vice-president as prescribed by _Consumer's Guide_. A loyal consumer, he bought the new model every six months. Once in the air and on course, J.L. set the Ultramatic autopilot--a new feature on the '98 model--and pushed the chrome seat control lever to semi-reclining. Scarcely a cloud marred the pristine blue, and below nestled the neat, colorful homes of happy American consumers, but his problem was not to be soothed by sinking back to enjoy the crisp spring air. Life, J.L. felt, would be all sweetness and light were it not for the unaccountable affection his pretty young daughter, Glory, bore for an ascetic looking young man of doubtful integrity as a consumer. There had been a parade of acceptable young men through his front door, none of whom had excited more in him than apathy. But this one. He wore spectacles with heavy black frames when almost everyone used disposable contact lenses. His suits were at least a month behind the current style. And with all those young men to choose from, Glory picked him to ask to dinner that evening. Glory had been taught to respect the might of the dollar and the disaster that comes of not spending it. She was a credit to her family; a sound, patriotic consumer. She could spend money faster, more sensibly than any of her frivolous friends. One fortunate young man would find her an excellent wife. No dollar-hoarder would fill her mind with subversive notions if he could prevent it.