Abdul-Kebab, whose very name means servant of fried meat, or as he is called in his native Churlish, Lukkadat Hegodda Dresson, is a man of many sides of his mouth, Prophet of Someone But We Sure Hope It’s Not God to his townspeople. He made village Imam after taking the written 31 times before Uncle Loopi ran for Moolah and graded the thing himself just to get the nudnik nephew out of the hovel.
During Bush’s free-market years, Kebab showed CEO’s where they could put their hands on all the money in the world, and the Churl followed that up with how to try and keep it for themselves. Astonishingly, this Apocalyptic Prophet then foretold what the magnates would actually do with every dollar there is. The Business Roundtable tried to hire the man of many sides of his mouth on the spot. Accommodating all the village Imam's 137 wives in 135 adjoining bedroom suites proved daunting, however, and the project got outsourced overseas.
Greenback Mountain is the largest pile of money in the world. Located in picturesque downtown Abu Dhabi, Abdul-Kebab Lukkadat Hegodda Dresson raised it entirely with U.S. surplus currency, trade-imbalanced singles mostly, though vacationers at any of the resort’s seven full-service, family-friendly hotels can find five-spots and an occasional sawbuck if the kids dive in and dig deep enough. Prophet of Someone But We Sure Hope It’s Not God considers the mountain operation his professional calling. All the man of many sides of his mouth has to do now, it has been revealed, is ride around on ski lifts until the end of days begins, or however one is supposed to phrase that.
In fresh powder conditions, nothing in life rivals a run down the resort’s heralded giant shalom course, or so I‘m told. Topping out at fifty-two hundred and eighty feet, Greenback’s surface boasts 96 inches of pack - genuine, recently-minted crumpled Federal Reserve Notes backed by the full faith and borrowing power of the United States Government and all the goods and services produced by our nation’s economy. During pre-construction, CEOs all across America signed up for a chalet somewhere on the slopes, anywhere, even if it meant settling for one of the Bunny Trail time-shares. You know, until something became available up top.
Ragheed Waddah Shlemiel runs the guest equity hedge fund here. Upscale Greenback Mountain provides all its lodgers with downside market protection during their stay, and Ragheed furnishes the racketeering pop to make that happen for them.
After a thrilling adventure out on the challenging runs, trails, jumps and half-pipes overhanging this scenic city, there’s nothing like an Abu Dhabi apres-ski briefing to cap that perfect day. Add the hedge fund option to Greenback’s standard exotic Middle East vacation package, and listen to your own personal proprietary trader outlining the day’s financial carnage, a familiar touch of psychosis underscoring the berserk range of xtreme native pleasures already offered at the resort's surprisingly competetive rates.
Follow it up with a complementary camel shoot, and you’ve just had yourself one whale of a day.
Whales get harpooned upon request, when available.
First thing every morning call, Ragheed checks the fund’s cash position, then phones co-conspirators in Mucus Poole-Knightly’s Market Assault Cabal. If resort guests drop enough personal wealth into the pot, these wise guys can trash an entire market sector in maybe three weeks. Less boodle, and the racketeers may find some industry to cripple for a few sessions. On a slow day, Cabal thugs would probably take out a small to medium-sized public company on one of the regional exchanges.
The afternoon Iceland toppled, it happened to be Kebab’s 50th wedding anniversary, and the resort was booked solid with relatives.
Short-selling is a piece of cake if you lie, sell the suckers fake shares, throw as much bogus paper at the market as you want, and happen to be sitting on a mountain of money while you’re doing it.
From his high-tech war room inside the weather station at the summit of Abu Dhabi’s self-collateralizing Greenback Mountain, Ragheed Waddah Shlemiel pretty much controlled the destiny of the civilized world and Iceland back in 2008/09. He did not let Organized Crime down, as we were soon to find out.
“Selling short, you kill,” the guest equity hedge fund manager explained to me after a scintillating day on Bunny Trail. “Everything and anything. Every living thing. We are Satan‘s army. All is destruction and death.”
“What the dickens are you talking about, Shlemiel?” I couldn’t help wondering.
“The shares short-sellers fabricate are not real.” Ragheed paused for a moment. “Are the short-sellers?” Another brief interval passed while I tried not to think about that one too hard. “How can we be real if the shares we spawn are deceptions? Mere bookkeeping entries.
“Yet, as can now be seen in all those smoldering embers,” the nut case chuckled, kind of shouting too, “BOOKKEEPING ENTRIES FROM HELL!”
“Huh?”
“Are we real sellers, or ……”
"Geeze, Ragheed. What are you then?”
"Oh, the demon-spawned shares pass into real hands all right, and, in time, from real hands too, but while we’re marching, while our army sells short, defrauding victims tricked into buying high under our Government-granted evil powers ……”
I was really getting sick of his stupid pauses. “You’re making this sound like you’re all…” I found myself pausing too.
“Like what?” he asked. “Like we’re …….”
“I can’t say it,” I tried not to say.
“Yes, you can,” the bad man insisted. “Like what? Like we’re ……………..“
“Freaking UNDEAD minions,” I heard myself finishing in this weird, trembling kind of hiss. “The … Army … of … the … Undead.”
“Satan’s Army.”
“You ARE Satan’s Army.”
“All is destruction and death.”
When sellers of real Bank of America shares wanted 52, Ragheed and Mucus Poole-Knightly's cabal of co-conspirators asked 51.95 for their demon-spawned ones. At 51, the cabal asked 50.90. At 50, 49.5, at 49, they wanted 48, and then things got really sick.
Satan’s Army started messing with buyers. Step up and bid 47 for 40,000 real, and the Undead minions dumped demon-spawn on you, and offered 400,000 more at 46. Ragheed and them threw so much phony-baloney at investors, quotes couldn’t go anywhere but down.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Somewhere in here, the lies came thick and fast. “Toxic paper”, “broken business model”, “buy and hold is dead“ were all you heard on GE TV. “Codicil“, “codicil“, “codicil” and like that 24 hours a day.
“Mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-market”, “mark-to-!&%$#&$ market”.
Buyers fled Wall Street in droves. Why put up real money for demon spawn? Why buy now when quotes will plunge as soon as your order gets filled? When stocks never stop freefalling and there’s no end in sight?
Sometimes Ragheed excused himself and stepped into to the john, and whatever the serial killer had been clubbing bounced right back up, but Waddah Shlemiel had excellent bladder control, and prices wouldn’t hold there for long.
Basically, mob minions pulled off Madoff accounting, but Madoff Accounting from Hell now, terrorizing the family of God in this unholy ritual Satanic bloodbath of theirs. Decent, honest, hard-working people like you and I found ourselves besieged with fear, buried in darkness, mired in conspiracy and fraud.
Pretend to sell what you never owned to somebody, then hammer prices down so you buy yourself out of the deception at prices way lower than you tricked the mark into paying. Paying for fake shares. And terrorize him in the dark, and bring Organized Crime along with you, and Washington too, and bring the Prince of Darkness and his minions, and terrorize the globe. Our poor, fragile planet.
That’s what pounded stocks into oblivion in 2008/09. Terrorism. The hearts and minds thing. Organized Wall Street Crime Families, enabled by bribed Federal stooges, took a people down with fraud, conspiracy, and psychological warfare. Drove our will to fight, to keep on keeping on, right into the ground. Did it with their own personal play shares, fraudulent entries in a phony set of accounts.
Co-conspirators in the Market Assault Cabal are terrorists. And they won. We ended up on our knees. Mucus, Ragheed and the lot defeated America in the 2008/09 Market Crash, and our Government helped these bloodsucking thieves. The officials you and I elected.
Washington politicians are the ones who’ve made Satan-spawned financial terrorism legal these many, many years.
