SadHand was sad because everywhere he looked, he saw the other Hands luxuriating in relentlessly consumer-driven lifestyles. The other Hands had big, fancy cars, they had giant widescreen televisions and they sent their Fingers to school dressed in the latest fashion. Poor Sadhand!
In fact, Sadhand felt like he was surrounded by money he couldn't touch!
One day, Sadhand decided that he had lived a poor life long enough. He went to the richest of all the Hands, PimpHand to ask for help.
Sadhand found PimpHand involving himself in deviant acts of involving Venice.
"PimpHand!" said Sadhand.
"Yo, dawg, whattup Sadhand?"
"I don't want to be Sadhand anymore," said Sadhand. "Tell me the secret of your success!"
PimpHand thought about it for a minute and said to Sadhand, "Homie, you gotta learn to be a playah."
"A playah?"
"Yeah, homie. You been playah hatin' too long."
"Thanks, Pimphand!" said Sadhand, and went off.
Sadhand rounded up some Fingers and offered them a lucrative business opporunity, where all they had to do was whore their knuckles out to middle-aged businessmen. Not realising that they were both being exploited and put at risk of contracting various diseases, the Fingers agreed, and Sadhand soon ran a profitable paedophilic prostitution ring. He bribed off several high court judges and most of the police and got away with murder (on more than one occasion).
After some time, Sadhand went back to see PimpHand. This time Pimphand was indulging his feather-fetish.
"Pimphand!" said Sadhand. "I did it!"
"You did?" Pimphand looked up. "Whoa playah, you be no Sadhand anymore!"
And Pimphand was, as always, right. For Sadhand was no longer a Sadhand at all. SadHand had become the happiest Hand in the city!
And that is how SadHand became Happyhand!
The End.
