New PUMA Financial Product Offerings: FEMA Concentration Camp Insurance!

I’ve been thinking on and off for a while about hot to monetize the irrational behavior of PUMAs, and I think I’ve found it. Solid gold idea this is. I have to thank Madamab and Glenn Beck for the inspiration, but of course I’m not going to let hem in on the deal. It works like this. PUMAs and Beck-tards (somewhat overlapping groups) are very afraid of these FEMA reeducation camps. Madamab wrote the following, without any sense of sarcasm, just the other day.

In two years, I might be in a FEMA concentration camp. I might be dead from another terrorist attack on New York. I might be jobless, homeless and starving.

This got me thinking. If the idea of her being rounded up by Obots and put in a concentration camp is distressing her, I would gladly ease her mind, for a small fee.

I am hereby offering FEMA Concentration Camp Insurance to PUMAs and Beck-tards. For the low price of $19.95 I will offer a policy that pays out $1 Million in the event of the holder being rounded up and put in a FEMA concentration camp. Think about that PUMAs. Sure, you’re eating gruel and watching Obama reeducation videos 23 hours a day in “stress positions,” but you’ll be a millionaire! If you’re actually concerned about this prospect, I think $19.95 for 8 years of FEMA Concentration Camp Insurance is a great deal.

For less than the price of dinner and a movie with your significant other (housecat) you can have the peace of mind that if you’re ever incarcerated by Obots, your family will be financially provided for. It would be irresponsible to not purchase this insurance.

If you act now, I’ll offer 6 months interest free payments on financing plans to accommodate strained PUMA budgets. If you finance $19.95 over 3 years, interest free for 6 months, you’ll be able to afford the insurance with the money you earn recycling cat food cans.

I’m deadly serious about this. Glenn Beck has 2 million viewers. PUMAs are 18 million strong. That’s potentially a $40 million market that I’m the first to tap into.

(And if they’re all rounded up though, I’ll be on the hook for about $20 trillion dollars. I’ll probably need a bailout, but I’m willing to let the taxpayers assume that risk.)

3 Responses

  1. If they’re willing to pay for that, they deserve to be swindled. So by all means have at it!

    Maybe we can cooperate, for as little as 25% of your profit I’ll set up a safe place for escaped patriots in Belgium. The teleportation device is still in the development stage though, so you’ll have to smuggle them out of the country in containers or cargo planes for the time being.

    Of course, the opportunity to escape socialist America for socialist Europe would make the insurance more valuable, I’m thinking 49,99. Of course they would need to collect more cans…

  2. I would offer my attic as a hideout for those on the run from the Obamagestapo, except, umm, I don’t have an attic.

    I guess I could allow them to hang out in the dumpster in the alley, I’ve met three very nice people who make it a point to go through that same dumpster at least once a week.

    Now, these victims of the Black Orange Blue Satan would have to haggle with “Chris” and “Milly” over who gets the empty beer cans I pass out from my kitchen window, but again, those folks are nice and cooperative.

    Plus, if you show up at the right time, you might even get a bowl of soup, a three-sandwich peanut butter and jelly care package or, although it’s much more rare, a hot cup of coffee.

    I can see it now, me, Katinthescat, the Hambeast and sm77 sharing laughs and swapping tales during those few precious minutes I can lift the lid of the dumpster to allow them air once the evil commie-pinko FEMA camp patrols go by. It would be a blast, I mean, can you imagine the hilarity?

    Gives me chicken skin just thinking about it.

  3. Erm, if any of the PUMAs are “jobless, homeless, and starving” in the future, it will doubtless be a result of them being too stupid and/or insane to hold down jobs that put them in the company of evolved human beings, or their decreased ability to convince their parents/husbands to continue paying their way in life as they spend every waking moment at PUMAPac in “my venomous spittle can beat up your venomous spittle” contests.

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