Labinda and Hercules Maggot were both thoroughly horrid.
They lived in a stolen house on some stolen land. They drove a stolen car, they towed a stolen trailer, almost everything they had was stolen, or bought with stolen money.
Everyone secretly knew they were terrible people, but Labinda and Hercules were such convincing liars that they were able to gaslight everyone they knew into believing that they were deserving of all their stolen loot, and that anyone who questioned their behaviour was just envious, and jealous of their enormous success.
It wasn’t entirely their fault. They were both very badly raised by over-indulgent parents, as so many self-entitled people are.
Labinda’s parents had given their daughter everything including an ill-considered made-up name, as had Hercules parents. Hercules was named in the hope that he would be strong and powerful like his namesake, but he was in fact weak and sniveling, never able to take responsibility for his legion of life failures, but somehow able to make up for this by being such a consummate thief.
Labinda and Hercules convinced themselves that theft was acceptable because they only ever stole from elderly family members who would probably die soon, and didn’t they have plenty anyway, so why shouldn’t they? In this way, they cemented the delusion of their imagined cleverness in their own minds.
The truth is that Labinda and Hercules also knew deep inside themselves that they were terrible people. Their lives got smaller and more paranoid as this self realisation grew. They left their stolen house less and less, sometimes only emerging to drive their stolen car to the supermarket to restock with instant noodles, cheap white bread, chocolate biscuits, and other brown food.
The end.