You and my uncle, the mayor, make a 12-year contract for you to stop building a giant car bomb that you were just two or three months away from finishing. You agreed because my uncle also agreed to stop holding your money frozen in his piggy bank.
You give up 97 percent of your car bomb-making explosives and my uncle sends back your money that’s he has held hostage.
I run for mayor when my uncle’s term ends, campaigning that his deal with you was “a disaster.” I say it’s a disaster because at the end of 10 years, some of the bans against you will expire and you may, maybe, start building car bombs again.
Then, when I win, I tear up the contract – calling you a cheater, a liar, a danger and a murderer – and say I’m going to start seizing your income and assets away from you again.
What are you going to do? Are you going to slink off to a hiding place? Or are you going to start building your car bombs all over again because you fear that I will come after you? After all, I’ve said I will again hijack your money and you’ve heard me call you a danger and a murderer and a cheat.