In a historic display of financial bravado, crowd sourcing, and altogether unabashed panhandler tactics, the corporate giant, GigantoCorp, recently made a stunning show of desperate creativity as it approached the esteemed Chamber of Commerce with the most woeful and pitiful of pleas this fine century has witnessed. GigantoCorp, long known for its cutting-edge exploitation of tax loopholes and unscrupulous cost-cutting initiatives, were found sheepishly situated roadside, outplaying a homeless kitten for spare change in their quest for respite from self-manufactured economic difficulty. "Dare we say it, they made Oliver Twist look like a Rockefeller," remarked astounded passersby, their hearts crushed not by GigantoCorp's plea but at having to choose who was more worthy of their pocket change, the billion-dollar company or the malnourished feline. The folding of GigantoCorp's high-powered attorneys into pitiful panhandlers, stationed at street corners holding DIY placards that depicted the telltale woes of corporate fiscal jeopardy, was a shock to everybody. The crude portraits of executive jets grounded without fuel, executive washrooms rendered without single-ply, and the overworked company shredder in need of a spare part, caused many a sympathetic soul to reach deep within their pockets. Some even offered their Starbucks lattes, thinking caffeine could momentarily boost the attorneys' crest-falling spirits. By noon, the string quartet, long a staple at GigantoCorp's year-ending diamond-studded galas, was strategically stationed outside the Chamber of Commerce, wrists aching from the relentless playing of sorrowful tunes despicably selected to evoke maximal empathy from masses who had heard more inspiring performances from broken jukeboxes. Their rendition of "It's a Hard Knock Life" was said to stir the hardest of hearts, even earning a tear from a granite statue of an old city mayor. CEO, Mr. Bucks O'Plenty, defended their approach astoundingly. "We are simply making the plight of our beloved company relatable to the ever-generous populace. If we can tackle offshore tax havens, why not test the principle of collective welfare, darling? For the common man, it's 'Go, fund me,' for us it's 'Dear populace, fund us.'" "It's a refreshing gust of humbling air," declared an old woman, who had stumbled upon the corporate spectacle whilst comfortably poor herself, "To see these suited men, once ensconced in penthouses, now down here with their shiny begging bowls!" Despite the irony laced hilarity of GigantoCorp's antics, the question remains - will the Chamber of Commerce bow to their lamentations or offer a serving of reality check? For now, we conclude, the only certainty is this absurd entrenchment of corporate poverty role play is far from over. All we can say is, bravo, GigantoCorp, for shattering the veneer of unshakable corporate superiority and giving the world a real-life Monty Python sketch we never knew we needed.