Better than joining the family business.
On the strength of his last name alone, Willy gained access to all the parties, women, and cocktail shrimp Berlin had to offer. It was wild. Gaggles of Hitler groupies lined up for the chance to get their Aryan mitts on Willy's little willy. On the family side, however, things weren't going too great. Dissatisfied with his crappy job at the bank, Willy asked Uncle Adolf to help him get a better grip on those evil coattails of his. It was around this time that the fuhrer starting referring to Willy as "my loathsome nephew" and accusing him of trying to "climb on my back."
When Willy became tired of his underwhelming nepotism, he and his famous last name started shopping around for more lucrative work. He was quickly offered a job at a film company and the Opel car company. But when he threatened to strike out on his own, Ol' Adolf forbade it, wishing to keep the most incompetent Hitler close by his side where he could keep an eye on him. He offered his nephew a simple choice: renounce his British citizenship in return for a high-paying government job or GTFO. It's clear which one he would have preferred, but Adolf forgot that a Hitler never fucks off when people want him to.
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William's counteroffer was simple. Either the fuhrer would give him whatever he goddamn well wanted, or he'd reveal the dark secret of the Hitler family: that ol' Adolf might have a Jewish grandfather. He may have been such an entitled douchebag that he could have guest starred on Entourage, but we'll say this: Willy had balls.
Hitler countered by suggesting that maybe, just maybe, it was time for Willy to go back home before he was accidentally tied to a post and executed by the Gestapo. Willy obliged. But if Willy thought being a Hitler in Britain was bad in 1933, by 1939, having that last name was outright dangerous. But that was nothing a press tour couldn't change, right?
Harold R. PEAT, Inc.