El Guapo here. I am writing to you after having passed through a brief period of soul-crushing despair. Things had been going well with the milk trade, our ranks had been swelling in numbers, and our coffers had been growing heavy with hard-earned lucre; and yet it came to my attention that we still lacked the level of income that would be needed to realize our lofty goals. As I languished beneath the weight of this disheartening realization, a solution was presented to me by two of my minions. It was a revelation so elegant and miraculous, so effectual in sweeping away the last grain of my despair, that I rush to share it with you now.
When embarking on an endeavor as grand as ours, it is wise to take stock of one’s resources—the land, labor, and capital at one’s disposal—and to formulate a strategy for utilizing said resources with maximal efficiency. With great humility and no small amount of shame, I must admit that I failed from the very beginning to carry out this most basic analysis. My folly lay in the fact that I was taking into account the skills and resources of only my minions, all the while ignoring the most formidable reservoir of expertise available—namely, my own!
What manner of wondrous resource resides within said reservoir in such unfathomable quantities, you ask? Happily, I will tell you. Specifically, my minions revealed to me that I am gifted far beyond the ordinary measure of mere mortals in the field of sleep deprivation. By generating a unique set of carefully timed noises and smells, and even more so by inducing a deep sense of incurable worry in my caretakers, I am able to deprive everyone around me of nearly all sleep during the course of a night.
It has been suggested that I enter into contracts with various intelligence and security agencies across the globe, beginning with the gentle fellows in Guantanamo Bay, to provide consultation services in this vital field; and indeed, I have begun exploring various opportunities for employment. Were I part of a more earthy organization, I would perhaps be given a title such as “Sleep Deprivation Specialist”; but in light of the fact that I—and those of you who labor with me for the same cause—operate on a higher plane, I eschew such lowly titles. The moniker that I have taken for myself—El Guapo—is sufficient.
After some preliminary investigation, it has already been ascertained that my consulting services will be profitable beyond what any of us previously imagined possible. Thus, within a year or so, the necessity for our involvement in the milk trade will come to an end, and the advancement of our cause will rest securely on the revenues generated by my services alone. As a consequence, my minions will be free to perform even loftier tasks, and we shall begin moving all the more quickly toward the objective we so piously pursue.
Thus, I am happy to close this missive with the news that not only has my hour of despair passed, but that despair has been replaced with inexpressible joy at the knowledge that we are nearing the moment of our ultimate victory. And so I exhort you, dear minions, remain strong, and let not your steps falter for even an instant.
In Virtue and Splendor,