You're a corporate fatcat and you see a man with a starving family.

What?

 

Or labor for nothing.

 

Beat him with a bag of quarters? Ah crap someone already said that. Uuuuh... smother him with a sack of hundred dollar bills then sue his surviving kin into destitution.

 

Ask if he has any teenage daughters and offer to buy them.

Spoiler :

I'll employ them as maids in my manor! What were you thinking?

 

The same thing I do now. Tell them I do not carry cash on me. Because I dont.

Though, I may educate him on the importance of saving and planning for your future.

 

Rob him and burn his cardboard box down. Then steal his wife and daughters and put them up on the black market. Also, fund a senatorial campaign while I'm at it.

 

Ask him what he's doing on my yacht, because there's no way I'd be in a place where finding such a destitute fellow would be likely.

 

Get the cronies to beat him up for breathing my air.

 

He has no money, ergo, he's worthless.

 

Given that you did not properly plan for your future enough to have a bit of cash on hand to spare for someone in need, why should he listen to your "planning for the future" sermon?

 

He may be rich in cultural capital, though.

Or he may be the victim of a drive-by mugging.

Or he may have unwisely invested in shares on a horse.

Or he may have been suddenly struck down with terminal malingering.

We just don't know.

(Perhaps he should put his wife, and children, on the game. Before they get too thin to attract the punters.)

 

He has no money, i.e., he has nothing of value.

 

On the contrary, he may have plenty of things with value (a house, vast acreage, a grand piano), yet still have no money.

He might have a signed photograph of Liberacci, a novel theory of quantum mechanics, or a cunning way with knitting needles.

 

Then he's utilising his capital improperly. He should obviously sell his house, use the money to pay for rent and food, and get a job from the job-tree.

 

His house happens to be within 200 yds of HS2. And is worth nothing on the open market.

Yet it still has value, for it was built in 1642...on the site of a Roman villa.

And hidden in its walls are the manuscript of a lost play by Shakespeare, a Queen Anne chair, and a folding fishing stool.

 

Then he really was letting his capital go idle. I'd buy his house off at £100 per square metre.

 

Unfortunately, his house is a grade 1 listed building and subject to an English Heritage protection order.

In short, you can't. Being a foreign national, and all.

 

Once he and his family see me, they realize the infinite opportunities that await if they only seize them.

So inspired, they apply themselves and in a number of years they build a successful buisness empire of their own.

At which point I execute a hostile takeover of their firm and kick them out penniless again.
Just to show them that the sharks don't like guppies putting on airs.

 

You're cheating. I assumed this was in 'Murica where everything is wunderbar, there is Coca-Cola and sometimes war.

 

A wunderkind State of permanent coca-cola, ethnic diversity, and fizzy war.