Gordon Gekko (Wall Street)

Arbitrager (Bank)

So I walked in looking for the journalist. The dirty Harry Potter lookalike rat who broke the story.

He was a long streak of pish. Floppy hair. Spectacles. A big nose , with an unecessary scarf pemanently entwined round his elongated neck (no owl today though!). The nose? Well, it looked fake to me. Not a clown type fake nose, more like Barbra Streisand....

,...Anyways, there he was leaning at the bar, dwelling on a pint, waiting for me to show up and buy him another.

No chance.

He had broken the story. The BIG story. My story! My losses all in the open. The snide bastard. But he'd deny it;...he'd deny it to the hilt, that filthy tight trainee wizard.

I decided I'd have a drink first before confronting him. Calm the nerves,..ease the rage. It would be cheaper as well; not having to buy him a drink. The jerk. I could never really afford to throw my money around in the first place,..but i certainly can't now! £100m losses down the drain. Down the swanee. Revealed to all. My career screwed.

And then it dawned on me. Upstairs at The Arbitrager was too small to hide. He'd spot me there in no time. You couldn't swing a cat upstairs,..if you were into swinging cats that is. (I was always more into swinging chicks, but each to their own animal). I'd have to duck downstairs to the bar down there. Avoid him by going down the side stairway. Always a better plan.

Let the tight journalist buy his own beer. Make a change. A seismic change. Not having that goose-necked ponce, fleecing me again. Don't they all have expense accounts anyway!!? Not this jerk apparently. Let him stand there wallowing in his own misery. Sipping at the last dregs of his Stella, waiting for the next mug to offer him a beer.

I still remember that time when he hit me for pints and then hit me in the face! I shoulda reacted then I know, but i was keeping him sweet, needed him onside. Well those days are over now,..his article has seen to that!

Yeah, downstairs in the Arbitrager. The place to come and hide,....and seeth.

There are beer kegs by the toilet, and seats in the hallway,..no paint pots kicking around at the moment though - Which is something. The TV s always on down here, showing sports. Always sports in fact. Sky Sports News and its breaking stories. It breaks more stories than I break wind. And I break wind a lot.,…Now it seems like I break banks too!

Yeah, always golf on the TV. But you couldn't swing a golf club down here either. Or a cat. And there was no swinging chicks either. But good Guinness. Even if it was better in the old days. When the Irish owned it. When the greed was good culture reigned supreme. When you didn't mind buying poncing journalists a drink or four, to get the story away how you wanted it,..when you didn't mention how bad their English was (English as bad as mine.)

Those were the days. The days when you bought something in the morning and watched the bull market make your money, in the afternoon, as you sat drinking in the pub.

Yeah. Screw him. Screw his story and screw the world. I am GORDON GEKKO. King of the World!

Downstairs in The Arbitrager.

Gordon Gekko’ rating for the Arbitrager – 8 / 10

Pigsy from Monkee