Soylent Green is regulators

I lost $55,000 today.
Well, not exactly. I have been trying for three months to get my real estate franchise operation past regulators in the Marxist state of California, and today I found out from my franchise attorney that a certain regulator in charge of our case turned us down until we explain in greater detail exactly what my franchise operation is offering for people who buy a franchise, and how much training, and whether we'll be offering sensitivity training, and whether my operation will support itself only on the fees given it by the franchisees (evidently, the regulator believes she understands better than I do what I must have in my bank account to stay afloat and continue my services).
Meanwhile, I've got an entrepreneur in Oakland and another in Los Angeles champing at the bit to give me $25,000 and $30,000 respectively for my franchises in those areas so they can start making damn good money buying and selling houses. They've been patiently and professionally waiting three months for the regulator approval!!!!
So far, this paternalistic fascism has cost me $25,000 in franchise fees from a man on Long Island who got tired of waiting for my company's approval there -- not to mention the thousands of dollars I've had to spend on extra audits of my company (above and beyond what the IRS demands) to satisfy regulators, who never seem to be satisfied.
When will this modern-day insanity end? Well, I've got a theory on that one. It will end when the regulator is assured of our sycophancy, of our cow-towing, or our sucking up to her, of our humble appreciation at her expediency and generosity concerning our matter, of our abject rededication to ensuring that she has all that she has asked for and more. Only then, when she knows she's got us firmly and permanently by the balls, with our eyes reddening and our mouths squinched up in pain, will she release her grip just a little bit and maybe possibly allow us to operate in HER state, with the proviso that she will be watching our every step.
I certainly owe her a debt of gratitude. And if I ever meet her in a dark alley, I'll punch her fucking lights out.