Warning to Social climbers Benedict Brooke, short funny poem

As Jeremy reached the mountain top, He said “At last I can relax”
I must inform the office, By mobile phone, and fax”
“Must let them know that I’ve achieved
My ultimate final goal”
“No not slamming the markets     
Or selling my bloody soul
Or being a bear, a slag or some such
Or playing the Stock Exchange
But I’ve given up my position
And conquered a mountain range
Reinstatement and promotion
Senior manager, at least
For I was conquering Everest,
While they were on the piste
Five hundred K, a company car
A Merc or maybe a Jaguar
Executive Box at sporting Events
Henley, champagne, hospitality tents
A flat down in Chelsea, a girlfriend called Shona
Invited to Wembley, guest of the owner
I’ll buy up Man U, run my own racehorse
And hope for a gong from Her Majesty, of course
Imagine their faces when I meet the queen
I’ll stand there, polite, aloof and serene"
-       and with that, the smug bastard fell down a  ravine