Greed is a glutton.

Her appetite demands everything. A new sports car, a four-story mansion, a poodle, a speedboat. Every night she dreams about soaking into a bathtub of melted gold. Though her tastes prefer glamorous, she could make do with basic as well. Her wants range from one end of the spectrum to the next. That new Nintendo game, that stuffed teddy bear, that box of chocolates, those shiny high heels. Anything not under her possession landed on her list of everlasting desires.

She would race down the aisles of Target like a lunatic, snagging bags of chips and candy with grubby hands. Junk food piles up in her bright red shopping cart, resembling a baby mountain. A pack of family-sized Oreos all for her, she, and Greed.

"Mine!" she shouts, as she swipes a Barbie doll from a six-year-old boy. "This is mine, all mine!"

(The boy wails like an alarm, distressed by her petty crime. Security hears him and bans Greed from stepping foot into Target ever again.)

She is Greed and her future screams bankruptcy.