Chapter Five - Fake the Math: How to Inflate the Dream

CHAPTER FIVE

Fake the Math: How to Inflate the Dream

IF I WERE evil, I wouldn’t lie.
I’d let you do it for me.

Here’s how it works:

During onboarding, I’d drop one clean number on the table:
“Top guys made $100K last summer.”
I won’t say how. I won’t say how long they’ve been doing it. I won’t say what they sacrificed. I’ll just let that number hang in the air and watch what your brain does with it.

Because you’ll do the math.
You’ll divide $100K by 4 months.
You’ll divide that by 16 weeks.
Then by 6 days a week.
And suddenly you’re thinking:

“That’s like $1,000 a day. I could do that. I just have to sell 3 or 4 a day, right?”

If I were evil, I wouldn’t even need to promise anything.
I’d just seed one phrase into every training:

“Just make one sale a day.”

One a day. That’s it. That’s the anchor. That’s the lie.
Because once you say that, you’ve already bought in. You’re doing the math. You’re solving for success using my numbers.

And the moment it doesn’t work?

You’ll think you failed. Not the system.

If I were evil, I’d weaponize optimism.
I’d build a ladder that looks scalable but keeps pulling you back to the ground.

Then I’d show you a spreadsheet:

• Tiered pay scales.
• Incentive bonuses.
• Advancement thresholds.
  I’d make it just complicated enough to seem official, but vague enough to twist at will.

And I’d hide the trap in the fine print:

“Your commission is based on active revenue and is subject to annualized tier thresholds and internal performance metrics.”

Translation?
I decide how much you get paid.

I’ll tell you it’s $50 a sale.
You’ll get the rest later. You get your chunk now.
And that 82% is withheld until after.

If I were evil, I’d promise thousands. Then pay in crumbs.

But I wouldn’t just sell math.
I’d sell milestones.

“Golden Door.” “Rookie of the Year.” “500 Club.”
I’d throw up leaderboards, issue trophies, and hand out jackets.
Because if I make a competition out of it, you won’t notice how many people didn’t win.
You’ll fight for my approval like a dog for scraps.

And here’s the kicker—
If you call me out?

I’ll just smile and say, “Well, it worked for him.”

And suddenly, the problem is you.