(FORTUNE Magazine) – Good morning, Fritz, Mr. Blatt, and members of the compensation committee. Or should I say, good afternoon. Yes. It's after noon already. Well, then. Good afternoon.

Today we're going to talk about a matter of minimal importance to the corporation. It is, however, one that will impact at least one person in this room in the near, intermediate, and out-year term. What we're talking about is my compensation package, which is now about the size of a breadbox. By the time I leave today, I'm hoping it will be up there with the kind of suitcases you guys drag around. But seriously.

Rather than invoke all kinds of fetid emotions on this fractious subject, I thought I would pursue a thoroughly rational route and lay out my scenario in the kinds of slides and charts that demonstrate that there is no subjectivity around here whatsoever. Let's begin with slide 1.

As you can see, my compensation has grown adequately over the course of the past decade or so. Unfortunately, at the same time, my personal needs have exploded disgustingly along with the rest of the culture's. It's sad. We're a mercenary and materialistic society. But there you have it.

The other day, for instance, I noticed that not one of my cameras was digital. This never bothered me before. Now it does. A digital camera with adequate pixelation is up there around $500. I would like to be able to spend that kind of money without blinking. I can spend it right now, but I'm blinking. It's the same story in matters pertaining to home electronics, personal transportation, even housing. What I want has blossomed to fully double what I actually possess (chart 1). This must cease!

At the same time, my duties have shifted to the point where aggressive compensation is the only bulwark against madness. As you can see from chart 2, back in 1985, when greed was good and the world still drank at lunch, my job was broken up nicely into middle-management responsibilities. Today there are only two forms of activity in which I engage, leaving me with a job description like that of a firefighter: either risking life and limb in a raging inferno or playing checkers with a Dalmatian. What could possibly repay a person for the infliction of that kind of lifestyle torque? Gentlemen, the answer is money.

In chart 3, you see what my peers at our key competitors have achieved by way of compensation. Over at Omnivore, my counterpart, Lou, earns a bucket of base, bonus, and gravy fully 77% larger than my little stew pot of greens. At Forbisher Industries, which as you know is now behind us in all key customer segments, Edna more than doubles my number. Most interesting is the approach taken by Pzortz International, which uses a consultant named Bunk & Wirtz that receives an enormous sum per annum, all of it in pure gravy, and that's not counting expenses. I'd be happy to explore this option with you folks at any time.

My friends, let's take a step back for a moment and look at the world in which we live. It's changing as we head toward the millennium. Just look at chart 4 if you doubt it. Things cost more. We, too, are suffering alterations, not all of them for the better. And what's on the top of our heads is not the only criterion! What about what's on our feet? As our ability to move fast is diminished, don't we all need sneakers? Really good ones? I do!

I know what you're thinking. But I say no! It's not pure avarice that drives me today. First of all, nothing is pure, and second, I swear to you that in keeping with the mood of spirituality now sweeping the nation, I will not use these incremental funds for personal pleasures alone.

As we see in chart 5, a mere fraction of the new funds will be dedicated to such necessaries as food and shelter. I promise, if you attend to me fairly, to immediately cede significant portions of my new nest egg to things that I know are important to you: the environment (which will hopefully be available for harvesting in the future), toys for perpetually needy children (yours, if need be, and certainly mine), ending world hunger (particularly at lunchtime), and supporting Republican causes I know you people favor even if I do not.

In closing, friends--and I hope I may call you friends--what I'm asking for is simple. I want you to give me the washer/dryer combination, the new Winnebago, and the trip to lovely Waikiki. I've played the game. I think I've earned it. If you choose to defer action at this time, I can't say what my reaction will be (chart 6). I can say this: It will cut into the quick of my soul like a hot knife through a butter substitute, leaving me with the kind of deep scars that are never, ever erased.

Unless you invite me to next year's senior management meeting in Cancun! Boy! That will be cool! Can I go? Please?

By day, STANLEY BING is a real executive at a real FORTUNE 500 company he'd rather not name.