Well, you see every night a cabal of bankers get together in the catacombs underneath the city -- I think it's a series of tunnels snaking out from the closed-up subway stops.
Anyway, they draw a big pentagram in the same ink that's used to print our money -- a big vat of it arrives from the Mint every Thursday -- and proceed to feed each other bills, coins, and certificates into every orifice until they're bloated and vomiting pure silver out of their noses.
And they just laugh and laugh . . . it's a jolly little ceremony, really.
I still must remark that those pig-raping sons of prostitutes are in direct collusion with my own worst instincts to relieve me of my money. And I let them do it.
Well, you see every night a cabal of bankers get together in the catacombs underneath the city -- I think it's a series of tunnels snaking out from the closed-up subway stops.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, they draw a big pentagram in the same ink that's used to print our money -- a big vat of it arrives from the Mint every Thursday -- and proceed to feed each other bills, coins, and certificates into every orifice until they're bloated and vomiting pure silver out of their noses.
And they just laugh and laugh . . . it's a jolly little ceremony, really.
It is all so very jolly, to be sure.
ReplyDeleteI still must remark that those pig-raping sons of prostitutes are in direct collusion with my own worst instincts to relieve me of my money. And I let them do it.
Bastards.