You didn't know how the hell you got adopted into this bloody family. You'd always seen them on TV, or read about 'em in the magazines, celebrities who want sympathy, when all they do is piss and moan inside the Rolling Stone, talking about how 'hard life can be'. You'd have liked to see them spend a week living outside on the street, you didn't think they would survive.

If they could spend a day or two walking in somebody else's shoes, you were sure they'd stumble and they'd fall. God, those lifestyles of the rich and the famous, they were always complaining, always complaining. If money was such a problem, well they had a mansion, why couldn't you just rob them?

And that you did - until the butler had come out with a shotgun and ordered you to sit on the ground, wait until the head of the house came to assess you for breaking and entering - and..... and eventually adopt you? God, these richies really were crazy!

But hey. This lifestyle of being rich and famous really wasn't that bad.