Chapter Twenty-Two - How to Get Away With It

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

How to Get Away With It

IF I WERE evil—and I mean truly, surgically, systemically evil—I'd never use force.
I’d use paperwork.

Because if you want to pull off the perfect con in broad daylight?
You don’t need a disguise.
You need a contract.

If I were evil, I’d make sure you signed a 1099 before your first door.
That’s the magic trick. That’s the invisibility cloak.
Because now you’re not an employee.
You’re a business.
A failed business, sure—but legally? That’s on you.

Now you can’t ask for overtime.
Can’t claim worker’s comp.
Can’t even sue for wrongful termination.

You weren’t fired. You just stopped knocking.

If I were evil, I’d build it all just close enough to the law.
Not technically illegal—just immoral in surround sound.

And if you called a lawyer?

I'd say, “Hey, the door’s open. They’re free to leave whenever they want.”

If I were evil, I’d use faith as my fallback.
“I built leaders.”
“I taught them grit.”
“I gave them an opportunity.”
And when the cracks show?

“They just didn’t want it bad enough.”

If I were evil, I’d rig every metric and hide every dollar.
I’d pay in promises and deposit in hope.
I’d drown the truth in dream boards and dodge it behind team chants.

And I’d sleep just fine.
Because technically,
I didn’t do anything wrong.

If I were evil,
I’d make six figures,
lease a sports car,
call myself a mentor,
and build a kingdom on broke teenagers.

And no one would stop me.
Because they’d never call it a cult.
Just sales.

So how do you get away with it?

Easy.

You don’t run.
You recruit.