Add this to the file containing the trash can shaped outdoor fireplace for the rich jerk who wants to get his (aesthetically and aromatically pleasing) warm on in traditional homeless fashion.

Now, a club for rich people who want to smash shit. No really, that’s all it is. Pay a(n undisclosed) membership fee, choose the item of your vexation, get picked up in a limo, dress in fancy smash-stuff attire, and break shit.

Now I’m not going to begrudge someone getting their smash on. I do it to every “gift” (read object d’obligation) sent by a certain stalker. But I’m smashing tacky porcelain spoon rests, not grand fucking pianos. The waste alone is breath taking.

ETA I knew this idea wasn’t original. It’s part of the plot of The Last Word.