Get ready, shreddy, panic …
Chris Henning, smh
March 14, 2008
Scene: The office of Stratospheric Super Investment Corp, high in the Sydney CBD. Trev Adkins, a 50ish senior executive, is pulling documents from a filing cabinet and piling them on his desk. He looks pale green and terrified.Trev: (Opens another folder.) Oh Godohgodohgod. Another one gone bad. (Puts it on pile.)
(There is a knock at the door.)Trev: (Jumps and whimpers, terrified.) Who is it?
Breanna: (Trev's personal assistant, through door.) It's me, Mr Adkins. I've brought you a nice cup of tea. Can I open the door?
Trev: (Locks door, frantic with nervous energy.) No! It's alarmed. I'm alarmed too. I've got a gun and I'm prepared to use it.
Breanna: Hahaha. You are a funny one. There's a honey jumble too. I'll leave them on the photocopier and go back to my shredding.
Trev: How do I know you're not from ASIC?
Breanna: I really don't know what you mean, Mr Adkins.
Trev: (Opens door.) Oh, it is you, Breanna. Come in. No one saw you come here did they? Good. I have a very important question for you. (Pauses for effect.) When they ask me for my investment strategy, what am I going to say?
Breanna: (Looks closely.) Are you in trouble, Mr Adkins?
Trev: No. Yes. I really don't know what you mean. (Picks up another file, looks at it and gives a little whimper.) I deny that completely. And I resent the implication in your question.
Breanna: Well, that won't impress them. How much have you lost?
Trev: Nothing. Nothing at all. $250 million.
Breanna: Ri-i-ight. Did you steal it?
Trev: (Instantaneous anger.) How dare you? Of course not. I invested it. Short selling. Future future futures. That sort of stuff. (Suddenly pleading and tearful.) Oh look, Breanna. I have no idea what I do. People give me money and I tell them a lot of rubbish and put it in some fund or other and hope it makes money for them. That's the strategy.
Breanna: (Reassuring mumsy tone.) Don't fret, Mr Adkins. If you haven't actually stolen any, it'll be all right, I'm sure. I'll just shred all the records and we'll say the dog ate them.
Trev: Thank you, Breanna. You're a treasure. But hold on. I should really have a written strategy, shouldn't I? What if someone asks?
Breanna: I'll think about that. Meanwhile, have you done your footy tips?
(The same thought strikes both simultaneously. )
Trev: (Hands her his tips.) That's it! Quick - print them out on letterhead.
Breanna: No one will ever know the difference. Stratospheric Super is back in business.
Trev: I love capitalism. (Curtain.)