Cuckold & DeMasculate, leading Affirmative Action Crime Family, stopped hiring single white males decades ago. Not that any ever wanted to work there in the first place, mind you.
When U.S. Ucker pulled his Lexis in front of the Cuckold & Demasculate Minneapolis storefront that morning, he saw that Foolah Malarkey, barracuda in charge, had boarded up the windows. U.S., also known as everyman in Twin City literary circles, wondered if moving the account here hadn’t been a big mistake. At their first get together, those initial misgivings should've registered as stark realization.
Foolah’s divorce lawyer sat in on the meeting with her.
“What do you need a divorce lawyer for?” U.S inquired.
“Queezhis? I take her to all my meetings.”
“Queezhis Nadsoff, Mr. Ucker." They shook hands. Woman had quite the grip I assure you.
“(Gulp).”
“Well, lets take a look at your folder.”
“How come it’s red?” U.S. wanted to know. All the other folders were manila.
There are only two sources of money on Wall Street. Yours and theirs, and mob computer geeks have ingenious ways of making yours theirs no matter how hard you try to prevent them. At Cuckold & DeMasculate, one of these involves red folders.
Some investors actually make money dealing with their Crime Family. When such an anomaly gets spotted, the account is flagged, matched with others having this same peculiarity, and wise guys start tracking the rogue group.
If these results turn out to be real, grifters tell other customers to do the exact opposite, whatever that is, so that Family proprietary traders can clean up taking positions against them. The losers get red-flagged in mob ledgers, letting wise guys know who they are when somebody wants to go and rob them.
At Cuckold & DeMasculate it’s done a little differently. Instead of flags, they use red folders, and nobody cares how poorly your account is doing. If you’re a single white male, you get one.
“How come my folder is red?” U.S. inquired a second time. Foolah fingered the button on her blouse, the only button, and Ucker forgot where he was and what he was there for, never mind ……. what was it? ……… something about …. about …… bookkeeping colors?
Foolah pumped BAC the first time U.S. called in to talk to her. “Buy 1,000 shares,” he agreed. Then the St. Paul divorcee shifted into dump mode.
Mucus Poole-Knightly was clubbing baby seals up in the Maritime Provinces when she got word to him via satellite telephone. Cuckold & DeMasculate belonged to his Market Assault Cabal, mob conspiracy of hedge fund short-sellers aimed at destroying the world economy one small investor at a time, and Foolah Malarkey had kind of become Poole-Knightly's pet barracuda. “Red-filed, huh,” the nation’s leading financial problem responded, “and he’s buying 1,000 BAC. What do you want to do, Ragheed?”
Ragheed Waddah Shlemiel, ace Middle Eastern stock market terrorist, was clubbing alongside Mucus. The apocalyptic mastermind looked too busy slaughtering adorable little newborns in front of tearful mothers to answer. He kind of nodded what seemed like avid consent to something already understood between arch-villains.
The cabal sold a zillion BAC shares short at prices from 53 down to to 39 that week, and dumped 24 megazillions more over the next six months, dropping the quote to 3. U.S. Ucker cashed out his Cuckold and DeMasculate account and stuck the money under a brand new orthopedic mattress.
Today U.S. totes cans of Mace around with him whenever he leaves his bedroom. Everyman hopes he never gets pumped and dumped by the likes of Foolah Malarkey again, but has to be ready in case it ever starts to happen.
