The lying fucker who hangs around Clausen bars like a disease is actually coming clean, according to him.
Jean-Paul Bichelot told everyone within hearing distance that he was a descendant of Luxembourgish nobility, and that his family owns all of the stately homes in the country.
A Scandinavian couple were nice enough to engage Bichelot, before he covered them in saliva.
He said, “Alright, I don’t have a Maserati anymore, and my job testing PlayStation 6s does not give me 90 days of paid vacation a year, but I am the fourteenth nephew of the Grand Duke. You can visit one of our castles for a private visit whenever you want.”
This is where it ended since he was thrown out for refilling his wine in the toilets.
A Royal spokesperson commented, “Oh please, there’s hundreds of harmless fame-seeking bullshitters here.
But then there’s this clown. We’re actually looking for a suitable vendour right now to have him killed.”
Grashley Scott thinks everyone in his bank adores him. He even thinks the Regulatory bods worship the ground he walks on.
“People are busy here, but they appreciate that I reimagine their Team Missions every few months. It never gets dull around here.”
“He’s as dull as it gets,” an anonymous Accountant proffered. “With his ever changing Alphabet Point Plans. Here are three free ones for you Grashley: dull, deluded dickhead.”
A CSSF contact revealed, “He keeps inventing acronyms and showing them off. Like we don’t have enough of those fucking things!”
“When I’m not re-invigorating the daily work of my colleagues, I’m bringing in ostentatious gifts for their birthdays and anniversaries which I painstakingly scout the internet for. The gifts are easy; finding the personal information can get tricky, but I am more than determined enough. My evenings are generally free.”
“I also give generously to charities but prefer not to mention it every day.”
“It nearly stops all the voices,” he added thoughtfully. “This morning they said to push someone in front of the tram.”