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>From Springfield porkmarked 9 October 1998:

Subject: Virtual Heist -- FPP #6

"I put Six Million into Hog Futures first thing this
morning." Yesterday's Power Suit told his lunch 
companion, hoping to impress her.

"Silicon Valley." Today's Power Skirt replied, almost
leaning over to whisper, as if speaking loud
enough for the Differently Dressed Deviate at the next
table to hear would make E.F. Hutton roll over
in His or Her grave.

"That's where the Smart Money's going again."
she continued, glancing nervously at the Differently
Dressed Deviate whose Well-Tailored Suit seemed so
out of place and ... well, Threatening ... in this
Chicago Mercantile Exchange Lunch Room.

Today's Power Skirt crossed her legs and casually
admired her new Rolex as she told Yesterday's Power
Suit, with a hint of disdain in her voice, "I just
put *Twenty-Six Million Dollars* into ..."

"Everybody Freeze!" screamed the Differently
Dressed Deviate as i jumped to His or Her feet,
pulling a Digital Uzi out of His or Her Well-Tailored
Suit, which was a Cammo Montage of Colors
Weaves & Cuts of the Power Suits of a wide span
of Time & Generations.

"Army of Dog!" Cammo Monty continued,
sending a Shiver of Terror down the spines of
the Lunch Crowd gathered today, as they were
everyday, discussing (over their bag lunches)
their movement of Other People's Millions into and
out of various Money Market Accounts, et al.

Cammo Monty pointed the Digital Uzi at the
breast pocket of Yesterday's Power suit.
"Let's see your Bank Book, Dick Face."


Horrified, Yesterday's Power Suit shakily withdrew
the Bank Book from his pocket, opened it and placed
it on the table in front of him.

"Just over three hundred bucks." the Army
of Dog Digital Terrorist told the Lunch Crowd,
causing much chuckling and snickering
throughout the room.

"Let's have it, Twat Face." Cammo Monty
spun around pointing the Digital Uzi directly
at the Bank Book of Today's Power Skirt, as she
was trying to slip it out of her Briefcase, 
unnoticed.

Reluctantly, she opened it and lay it on
the table.

"A hundred and twenty-eight dollars ..." Cammo
Monty announced to the tittering Lunch Crowd, "and
seventeen cents." i finished to a chorus of guffaws.

Cammo Monty leapt onto his chair, and placed
one foot on the table, waving His or Her Digital
Uzi around the room, seeing the Fear (TM)
in the Eyes of each Wanna Be Money Kontroller in
the room - thinking that they might be the next
to have their finances exposed.

"Today's Power Skirt," Cammo Monty told the
Lunch Crowd, "bought her Rolex on a Payment Plan,"
a shudder went through the room, "with a *ten
percent*," i spit out the words as she began
to moan, "down-payment."

Today's Power skirt collapsed in tears ...

"You Fucking Morons (TM)!" Cammo Monty
screamed at the group, causing them to
cringe in shame.

"You are handling Other People's Money. It's
not *your* money, you idiots, so Wake The
Fuck Up (TM) and stop pretending that it is ... 
to yourself and to each other." <J <J

Across town, one of Cammo Monty's A0D
Non-Conspirators was making a similar
speech to a Lunch Crowd of Federal
BureauCraps.

"Sunshine is the best disinfectant." the Beautiful 
Army of Bitch Terrorist nagged the whimpering
BureauCraps, for the hundredth times, as i
laid yet another Digital Printout on the
Overhead Projector.

"This is the amount of National Debt that is
a result of you Fuck Wads holding meetings to
discuss the agendas of future meetings."
Beautiful Bitch snarled at the Group.

"This," i continued, slapping down a picture
of a Family With 2.5 Children onto the Overhead
Projector, "is who is *paying* for your
Incompetence & Departmental Squabbling."

"Don't look away!" the Beautiful Bitch screamed,
using the Zoom Feature to Highlite the Child with
no arms or legs in the picture.

"It's NOT YOUR MONEY you Dumb Assholes!" i
continued to nag at the BureauCraps. "But you're
not content to force the Taxpayers to pay
An Arm & A Leg to support your Wasteful Spending - 
now you want *Two Arms & Two Legs* ..."

"CHILDREN'S LEGS!" the Beautiful Bitch
raged at the terrified BureauCraps.