The Dayman, not at all pressed by the fat stacks of cash hurling towards his magnificent royal frame, began to monologue in an exquisite fashion. He poked out his glistening royal chest that pushed its way past his dimension shattering deep v neck top, filled his royal lungs with air (royal lungs, of course, filter out all the poor air molecules), and struck a pose directed at the embodiment of all that is capitalism and robotics.<br/><br/>"How dare you, filth, project pouches packed with pieces of preferred payment at my person! I coined the very term "royal" with my own codpiece! The deity of pomp needs no bailouts from some filthy money hub for commoners! Withdraw from this fight Depositron! Post haste. You, vagrant bot, need to check yourself before you begin to money order true royalty around! No safety deposit box can save you now! You cannot hope to vault your way past us! Nothing will be able to savings you now! You will be in debt to the superiority of me and my codpiece. Banks don't even have the credit to possess a codpiece! I may even be tempted to foreclose on this fight before it even begins! You will surely find yourself a-loan in this battle Depositron! Truly, you mechanical hobo, who would even bearer bond with you in order to want to come to your aid? Your balance disgusts me! Your bank statement will soon read: Overdrawn! I will...ack!"<br/><br/>After probably...far....far too long...the pouch packed with pieces of preferred payment collided with his person, specifically The Dayman's codpiece. The crash was illustrated with a most glorious clank as one coin purse smashed into another, and The Dayman collapsed to the ground holding perhaps the most important deposit of all, his family jewels.