You’re an investment banker. Not a big one. God no, you’re about as small as they get. You help elderly people invest their stocks and bonds so they can purchase candy for their grandparents. You’d be absolutely adorable if not for your super secret leather fetish.
After today, however, that fetish is no longer going to be your defining characteristic. Tomorrow you’re going to reaffirm the faith of the American public in the stock market.
You’ll do so by explaining it in a down to earth, folksey manner, using lots of stories about crawfish and pollywogs where you give woodland creatures human personalities and mannerisms and let them loose on the psyche of the American public for their betterment.
People will immediately think that not all investment bankers are sons of bitches. President Obama will shake your hand at a photo opportunity, and Sarah Palin will refer to you like you’re the second coming of christ whenever anyone lets her open her retarded fucking mouth. Chris Mathews will even lower his voice when speaking your name.
You’ll be a hero for a month.
That is, until your fetish comes to light and you become the single biggest pariah in the United States. Until then Congratulations on Renewing Our Faith in the Stock Market!
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