**WHO WANTS TO RUB SUNSCREEN ON ME? (BETA PEASANTS ONLY)**

Let me spray truth in your face like SPF 100: **IF YOU’RE NOT RICH ENOUGH TO PAY SOMEONE TO RUB LOTION ON YOU, YOU’RE A LOSER.**

You’re sitting there, sweaty and sunburned, slapping your own greasy hands on your pasty back like a broke clown. Meanwhile, I’m on a Bugatti-shaped yacht in Monaco, surrounded by Billionaires fighting for the privilege to oil up the Top Slaylebrity Queen. Why? **BECAUSE I WIN.** You? You’re a peasant with a CVS receipt and a 9-to-5 sunburn. Pathetic.

### THE SUN NEVER SETS ON A QUEENS EMPIRE

You think I touch my own skin? **NEVER.** My hands are for counting cash, steering Lambos, and smacking weak men into reality. If your “self-care” routine includes *applying your own sunscreen*, you’re a failure. Winners delegate. Queens command. Legends like me? We’re the sun gods—peasants line up to worship us with aloe vera and obedience.

I don’t ask nicely. I don’t beg. I snap my fingers, and 10/10 Billionaires sprint to serve. Why? **BECAUSE I OWN THEM.** My empire funds their lives. My charisma melts their resistance. My Rolex alone could pay their rent. You? You’re begging your mom to scratch that itch between your shoulder blades. EMBARRASSING.

—

### HERE’S WHY YOU’RE RUBBING YOUR OWN BACK (LIKE A LOSER):

1. **YOU’RE POOR.**
Your bank account is a desert. No one worships dust. Get rich or keep lotioning your sad, flaky skin alone.

2. **YOU’RE WEAK.**
You think sunscreen is “romantic.” No—it’s a POWER FLEX. I don’t “ask” for help. I demand it. Your meekness repels success.

3. **YOU’RE A NOBODY.**
Your Instagram has 87 followers, all bots. I sneeze, and the internet crashes. Fame = service. Obscurity = solitude.

—

### HOW TO UPGRADE FROM “SAD LOTION BOY” TO SUN-KING (STEP BY STEP)

1. **STOP TOUCHING YOURSELF (LITERALLY).**
Every second your hands are on your body, you’re wasting time that could be spent stacking cash. Hire someone. Enslave someone. **MAKE THEM EARN YOUR PRESENCE.**

2. **TURN YOUR LIFE INTO A 5-STAR RESORT.**
– **WEALTH:** Build an empire so vast, people BEG to serve you.
– **FRAME:** Get shredded. No one wants to rub sunscreen on a blobfish.
– **AURA:** Radiate dominance. Your mere glare should make peasants grab the SPF.

3. **CHARGE FOR THE PRIVILEGE.**
You think I let just anyone touch these abs? **NO.** Monetize your existence. Sell “sunscreen application slots” to desperate fans. $10,000 per minute. If they complain, double the price.

—

### THE COLD HARD TRUTH: SERVANTS ARE THE ULTIMATE FLEX

You want respect? Make someone else do your chores. Make them *fight* for it. The second you’re too valuable to lift a finger, you’ve won.

Meanwhile, you’re out here arguing with your girlfriend about “fairness” while she half-heartedly smears discount Coppertone on your back. **SHE HATES YOU.** And she should. You’re a peasant with peasant problems.

—

### FINAL WARNING: THE CLOCK’S TICKING

Either build a life where servants line up to worship you… or keep lotioning your own back like a lonely NPC. Your choice.

**THE SUN SETS ON LOSERS. RISE OR BURN.**

*-Victoria Fox*
**Catch me getting oiled up on my $50M yacht.**

🔥 **SHARE THIS IF YOU’D RATHER BE SERVED THAN SELF-SERVICE.** #AlphaOrServe #TopSlaylebrityMindset #SunscreenIsForPeasants

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