by M. Anton Smith
I was at my local dive bar drinking my usual dirty-glassed-ales. I was in my usual spot – holding up the bar. I’d been coming here for years. I had long since traded in the flashy bars full of corporatised types for these sometimes rough, but honest ones.
I now saw dive bars & all their grime as a thing of beauty. All-told, in this little dank world, there were a lot less lies flying around than those pretentious city bars.
The down side of these places, was that there were also a lot of actual flies flying around.
In this bar I have always greeted the long-term bartender the same way, & she always played along with my very silly script.
It went like this:
“Yo Sally!
“Yo Matinski you Ol’ Bastard”
“Lady Sally, What’s a fine out-of-this-world girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“Matinski you old asshole! I’m here for one reason & one reason only: Killing is my business & business is good”.
“So long as I only die slowly and with a smile on my dial, Sally”
“That’s a Deal Matinski”.
Yes, It was real C-grade hollywood stuff we were re-creating.
Sally & me always laughed hard after this mini-performance. It was no matter that we had said the same routine forever. Occaisionally even some fellow bar flies would clap & laugh at the end. It was our little ordinary gag to raise our spirits. People with our kind of thankless jobs needed these moments of joy.
Little did I know that this particular night, I was about to have a very out-of-the-ordinary encounter with a new out-of-towner type. He was very strange but very interesting – this is always a good combination to entertain.
You see, my philosophy in life is this: you’ve got to love the world’s weirdo’s – so long as they’re not too violent. That way you will guarantee yourself many a fun toboggin ride. Just make sure you don’t get too close.
My life philosophy then immediately sprung to life while I was gulping a beer at the bar .
A very tall & lanky & well-dressed man came along. Quirkily for these times, he was whistling a tune while he walked – which sounded a little like the original theme song to ‘star trek’.
He sat two stools down & ordered a Martini. He was smart enough not to sit right next to me, so not to cramp my style. ‘Close sitters’ annoy me. A man needs his space, & I assume a woman does too. This is doubly so in small towns like this.
This fella wore a shimmering outfit, a little more than what those corporate bums call “smart casual attire”. He had a fashionable heavy stubbled beard with a shaggy crop of shoulder length, dark brown hair.
I guessed he was around my age of mid-to-late forties. From his energy & look I felt that this wag was a freewheeling, well-dressed, silver-tongued devil – a big town blow in kinda, guy who I probably couldn’t trust. But if that was true – then he fit my life philosophy perfectly.
He said to Sally the bartender:
“Hi beautiful! Make me a Martini my fine bar lady, & make it ‘as cold as antarctica’ & as ‘fine as a peacock'”.
In a theatrical vein he used his fingers for the quotation marks around ‘fine as a peacock’.
Sally replied, dryly as ever:
“Sir, our fridge runs at a high temperature so as to save on electric, & the only thing that’s fine in this place is my butt – but I can serve you a pretty good Martini, that I can do”.
Yes sir, Sally was one of those one-of-a-kind bartenders. The ones where if they leave, the magic leaves the bar with them.
After drinking the Martini down quick-smart, he ordered another, then another, & then half way through his current big gulp, he looked over squarely at me.
Here I was a sturdy man of 46 wearing workman’s clothes, covered in paint. Ten years prior I was in a suit & tie, in another far less honest kind of prison than this current one. And lets not kid ourselve – we all live in some kind of a prison in this world – it’s all just a matter of degree.
What he couldn’t see from my exterior – was that which I was an intellectual & former careersman, who had dropped out of society. By ditching the organised souless machine world all I did was what all good intellectuals, bookworms, orjust plain revolutionaries end up doing.
“Hey fella you look like you’ve had a harder than hard day”, the well-dressed-blow-in piped up.
“No harder that most people in this area”, I said.
He introduced himself simply as ‘Shallowton’ & then kept talking without missing a beat.
“Shallowton by name Shallowton by nature! – Well, I reckon after your day you deserve a fancy drink my friend! – how bout I buy you an extra limey Mohito?”
“Nice to meet ya Shallowton! – I’m Matinski -I’ll drink with ya – but I only drink beer – none of that fancy townee shit”.
I said this because it was true. Beer was so perfectly versatile – I agreed totally with the late American writer ‘Bukowski’ & his maxim about beer. So, when I’d had a good day, I drank beer to celebrate. When things didn’t go well, I drank it to commiserate. When I was bored, I drank it to make something happen. That makes me sound like an alco – but to use another old drinkers cliche – I always knew I could stop if I really wanted to.
There is also more reasons to only drink beer. A good branded beer is tasty in itself, & beer is alcohol-diluted enough to be the safest booze on offer versus everything else. You’d have to drink a tonne of beer for it to ruin your life, whereas with hard liquor, you only need a few to many glasses, bottles or shots. Incidentally wine sits between these two extremes.
Now back to my bar conversation with the out-of-towner Shallowton. He continued is opening words.
“Ok man, I won’t argue with a local, suit yourself! – beer it is!”
Shallowton said this with ebullience, & ordered it from Sally. He peeled of the cash from a big roll from his pocket just like a gangster.
Sally expertly poured it as usual – with a one-inch froth on top in a clean glass, that wasn’t actually so clean.
I didn’t usually accept free drinks from strangers, but today hd been a hard day & needed to be commiserated. I’d also had a minor accident – I had taken a whole full can of paint to the head, which left a sore bump – but not anything any one would notice.
I accepted his hospitality, & begun some stock-standard bar chit-chat. With normies this would be painful, but with weirdos it’s all fun as it transforms into weirdness, hilarity, tears or sometimes even fisticuffs.
I drank to the top off my shouted beer – shouted beers are always tastier. I’d now happily talk to Shallowton.
“Thanks fella – so what’s your story anyway? I can tell you sure as hell ain’t from these parts.”
“You’re right my workin’ class fellow – I’m from a long long way away in a big big city, full of fumes & ill begotten money, & loaded to the hilt with shysters of every flavour…& maybe I’m one of them”.
Shallowton slapped the table to further punctuate his sentence.
I didn’t ask him the name of his place or origin – I didn’t really care anyway, I mean after all most big cities are a dime a dozen – that aussie singer Paul Kelly was dead right – when you’ve seen one big city, you’ve seen ’em all – they all look the same.
“So, what brings you here to this one-horse, two-bit town” I said in true cowboy-like, Wyatt Earp fashion – hell I even looked the part wearing a khaki bombers jacket, flannel shirt, black jeans, steel capped boots & with my usual olive green wide-brimmed-hat on.
“Well Matinski, I needed to get away from the dirty city, get some fresh country air. I had to get away from the stresses & the hoards of working with all those zombie eyed-clinically-depressed-nine-to-five-slave-robots. Although of course I’m not like that – I work six-to-six & wouldn’t touch an anti-depressant. I love my stressed life. But Yep Matinski – I have some big big big daddy recurring stresses in my daily life – but I wouldn’t change a thing”.
Shallowton said his words proudly & with a half-smile – so I took it he was one of those people that actually enjoy stress. He was the type that seeks stress out & can’t do without it. He was one of those that occupied a moneyed sweet spot in the corporate hierarchy in big cities.
Those types love stress, even when it eats them alive. They want stress to eat them alive -it’s how they stay alive. These lifestyles are obviously a form of addiction & they are the addicts. In other words, he was exactly the type of person I didn’t want to be around anymore. You see those kinds of people love to make their problems your problems. Those types belonged in my long distant big city past.
I now started to feel tinges of regret for talking to him & worse I was digging myself deeper by accepting his free drink. Mentally, I scolded myself for allowing myself to think that way. With thinking like that I was simply being overly risk adverse. I soon relaxed again when I remembered my philosophy – enjoy the weirdos, just so long as you don’t get too close.
I thought ‘what the hey’ – for kicks I’d ask him the worse question possible. It might spark something bearable.
“Tell me about your stressful life man .. it sounds like in might be interesting”. I said the words while mostly stifling my always there, pessimistic inner sarcasm.
“Ok you asked for it Matinski! – I am a hedge fund manager – my portfolio is businesses with at least 10 million to invest – let’s just say I grill only the big cheeses”.
He said the words proudly & was cocksure in his body language. I decided to ask the next boring question that his highly inflated ego probably wanted me to ask.
“Man, I guess that would be stressful – knowing you could lose a bunch of someone else’s money & maybe lead them to bankruptcy along the way”.
I heard myself speak & cringed a little.
“Yep – & all at the click of a button! Did you know Iast week I lost 137 billion dollars for a leading bank? 137 billion! What ya think of that?”
Impressed, I immediately made the ‘wow that’s big’ whistling sound.
“Shit – that’s massive! Did you get fired?” I said like a school boy.
“Well, here’s the thing Matinski – each of the hedge fund managers figures are only submitted bi-weekly – so no one knows until next Wednesday – so I figured since I’m toast in nine days, I may as well have a holiday until they find out & fire me. That’s why I’m here! What d’ya reckon, is that a believable story?”
I looked at him closer after he said that – was he telling the truth? As I looked closer beyond his bon vivant mask, he had an erratic look in his eyes. He was sweating a fair amount through his almost shoulder length brown hair. But then I saw sheer terror float into his eyeballs. It was the kind of terror that a man had when his life was totally screwed up & he had lost all power to change his destiny. I decided he was probably telling the truth.
“So Shallowton, looks like you’re facing the axe with probable prison time, eh? What d’ya reckon you get – 5-10 years in a cushy financial crime minimum security facility with good access to a garden bed full of rhododendrons?”.
“Wait a minute Matinski, hold up a little- I said I’d lost a heap of cash – I never said I stole it. What makes you talk like that?”
His eyes narrowed & his look became a glare, & his hunch more pronounced & he rocked back & forth a little.
“Well, Shallowton – you show me a guy who loses 137 billion cold hard for his company & does so without any crimes being commited – tell me that & I’ll drink this beer backwards, upside down, pants down with a funnel.”
Sally was listening in & piped up from behind the bar
“Oh no, not again” she said.
My schoolyard-meets-construction-site humour & Sally’s quip had now disarmed Shallowton. A smile slowly eclipsed his glare & his body language relaxed.
“Touche Matinski – you’re no small-town dummy, I like ya, I like ya!”. As he said that he reached over & slapped my back far too hard.
“Man that Einstein’s” I said feeling the pain of the whack.
“What do ya mean ‘That Einstein’s’?”
“Smarts”. I said.
“Oh I get it, haha. Sorry Matinski I get too carried away sometimes.”
I was interested to know more about this Shallowton fella, so I kept pressing – this was good entertainment & it beat sitting around alone at a bar anyway. I continued.
“So, tell me about this Shallowton – you’ve gotta have some BIG brains to steal 137 bill, it’s gotta be a great story – Oh & don’t worry ’bout me squealing – as if a trades-guy covered in paint in a bar would rat on anyone to the man!”.
I was trying to stroke his ego – this was sure to work with these big-shot corporate townie types. Shallowton didn’t skip a beat & got right into it.
“Well, ok I’ll start at the beginning – our company is one of the biggest hedge funds in the world & we have a special division – it’s has a giant account which is filled to the brim with cash fleeced from mom & pop investors…well I should say we have two accounts – the advertised one which we make sure is squeaky clean – then we have our real account – that one is what’s known in the biz a “finbop” – a financial black-operation”. That’s the stuff we don’t advertise – & for good reason.
“Go on” I say noddingly in order to help him continue to drunkenly divulge the dastardly details.
“In a nutshell, what we do is we put flashy but small offices in the small to medium sized towns in America & sell an investment to simple mom & pop self-employed types – we quote a low risk guaranteed 6.5% return. After we get hundreds of thousands of yeses & signatures from country-wide, we scoop up their hard earnt.”
He took a slug of his Martini & continued
“The money is then funnelled from all the agents on the ground, to me in my office in New York – then the fun begins – I invest in all the fun risky stuff I want, & I get it all leveraged to hell from our legally totally anonymous Swiss unregulated bankers. Oh, I should say that of the 137 billion I lost, 123 billion of it was leveraged debt allocated to us from those Swiss bankers – but that’s just details of course”.
I of course wanted more details so I prodded again.
“Sounds like you’re doing the same stuff that was done it that thing from 2008 – what was it called “The Sub Prime Crisis, The Great Finacial Crisis”
“Well Yeah, basically that’s true Matinski – I was around then & I was amazed the feds never made us change our ways – even though we greedy fools had actually created a new ‘Great Depression’. I couldn’t believe it when all we got was a slap on the wrist & a massive jaw dropping gigantic bailout”
I played dumb & prodded him again with the next question.
“But Shallowton, we never had a Great Depression – they called it “The Great Recession” – a “Great Depression” was never announced”.
It was then Shallowton comically & literally fell off his stool & laughing so loudly & hysterically in his energetic, lanky-stick-insect like fits that raised the eyes of the other few handfuls of actual human ‘bar flies’ interspersed around the large floorspaced, low lighted bar.
“Hahahaha Matinski! Oh Man! I can’t believe it…….hahahhahha – you think that we haven’t been in a Great Depression since 2008? Hahahahahaha I thought you had brains….oh man hahahahahhaha…how can you be so stupid! hahahahahaha”
After a good minute or so Shallowton was still on the ground, sprawled out in the prone position. He looked up at Sally the bartender. Sally gave him a look that said “that’s enough – you’ve had your fun” & he stopped his contrived theatrics & said:
“I need another drink after that excitement – another Martini make it….
Sally the bartender cut him off.
“Let me guess you want it as ‘cold as Antarctica & as fine as a peacock’.”
“You got it man…I mean wo-man” said Shallowton from the floor as he was getting up to return to his barstool. He scrapped it loudly across the ancient floorboards back into position.
Sally made the Martini – the same way as she did for anyone else, & plonked it down unceremoniously. By now Shallowton was back on his seat, happily hunched over.
“Now where were we Matinski…oh yeah you were saying we weren’t put into a Great Depression back in ’08?”.
Shallowton chuckled into his hand again, & coughed to cover it up – he was again in ‘theatrical mode’ – trying to make me look foolish. I think he was just being an asshole – he surely knew I wasn’t that dumb & that I knew we had been in dire financial shit since at least 2008. I piped up showing some teeth.
“Shallowton you moron! Of course, I knew we were in an undeclared ‘Great Depression’ – anyone with half a brain over the age of 40 knows that! – why do you think I dropped out of the corporate world a couple years after 2008 – I couldn’t handle the scam! All that horse-shit we were being asked to eat on the promise it was actually succulent T-bone steak! I knew it was all a scam! All anyone needs to do for proof was to look outside & all the people living in cars these days.
“Matinski” he said oin drawn out fashion – “Sorry Matinski I just wanted be an asshole for a minute…us finance men are assholes, its a job requirement after all! . Ok ok back to the story….ok your question of “how did I do it?”…. so I had all this cash from the mom & pops of small-town America & I inflated the fuck out of it thanks to Switzerland & its legal invisibility cloak it offers to us international finance types.”
“You Bastards!” I interjected with faux surprise & vigour – after all it was nothing I didn’t already know. He ignored my protest, drank another slug & continued.
“So then I just did the ‘business as usual’ move and bought risk assets – the high but not too high-risk stuff – you know like big city mid-rise apartment developments etc. Of course I’d cream it, take 90% of the profit, & then funnel the remaining 10% back to pay off the mom & pops their pip-squeak 6.5% investment. You see Matinski – It was just a garden variety financial scam – what makes me & my lot different is the scale we operate at”.
He took another big Martini slug & continued. A fly buzzed around his head without landing.
“The trick is scale – anyone making massive investments is always green lighted by the authorities. The’re to afraid to do anything else. You know Matinski I think Satan does rule this world – why else would I be allowed to steal & misappropriate billions of dollars of real salt of the earth people – yet a hungry single parent gets done for stealing a loaf of bread so their kid can eat?
“Yeah good point, you may be right. Your ‘scam of scale’ sounds like typical-good-ol’-American legalised financial crime so far man….but, there has to be a BUT coming Shallowton…I know there’s a giant ‘BUT’ – I mean you did end up losing all the money.“
Weirdly right then a fly landed on the rim of Shallowton’s Martini – oddly he saw it & just let it be, when he raised the glass for a swig it flew away, & then when he put it down it returned & sucked on a salt speck. I made a mental note – ‘he’s nice to flies but not people’.
“Yeah Matinski – you are right the BUT is coming….the BUT is I became like all the other idiots that get too easy money…I got greedy – with a capital G.”
“But you’re all already greedy as fuck in high finance & investments! What do you mean you got greedy Shallowton?”
“I got superd-dooper drunk-on-power-Machiavelli-on-steroids greedy Matinski – that’s what happens when you get handed a rubber stamp to print money by the so-called regulators – you get bored. When you get bored you get casual, & when you get casual you get lazy, & when you get lazy you seek thrills – & I went to seek big thrills Matinski. Cheap-nasty-low-bellied-American-at-scale-dirty-finance-thrills.”
I was ending my beer – Shallowton obliged for the next one & he yelled out with joy into the air like a coyote howling in the moonlight.
“A fine ale for my new friend Matinski – the greatest listener a bad bad city man can get”
The Bartender Sally again obliged. I started to feel a twinge of guilt – after all I was probably helping him spend the last dregs of his company’s expense account. But the guilt feeling was only fleeting – I mean this story might be a total fabrication. I gulped down that velvety ale, looking forward to the climax of Shallowton’s modern day true-to-life horror story.
“Well, Matinski – do you know what the best investments are these days?” Shallowton belowed.
I thought for a minute or two then answered.
“AI….or should I say, the hardware that’s attached to AI software”. I said it confidently, knowing that one company was currently creaming it after having a near monopoly on the worlds AI chips that the various proprietary owned software ran on.
“Nice guess Matinski – if that was 18 months ago, I would have agreed – but that ships sailed…..No – the AI hardware chips return on Capital is only 88%, which is of course huge if you follow the mainstream financial reporting – but in the ‘finbop’ world that’s sweet fuck all – chicken feed.”
Shallowton then made the chicken squawk sound to underline his point – he even flapped his wings. He continued.
“In the Finbop -World, investors get 200, 300% return as a minimum & the best ones get 1000 to 10,000% all in short time. That’s what scale allows Matinski – scale.”
“I’m listening” I said while nicely feeling the beers effect.
“Matinski – Within the ‘Finbop world’ the best investments are the ones that the crooks deep in the bowels of power sell – one of these crooks is the CIA but there are of course others. They sell Future War Options or as we call it in the business ‘FUWO’s’. It’s pretty simple – all these guys do is scour the world for countries that have dopey leadership, & totally untapped or underused assets. They could be lignite deposits, untapped oil deposits, uranium, already an array of almost-but-not-yet functioning nuke plants, large areas of under-farmed fertile soil. They simply package, securitise, & sell the right to profit from the wanton plunder”
Shallowton took a big breath and an even bigger Martini slug & continued.
“The CIA based investments are not just about physical resources – often it’s a third world population with ‘Culture potential’ – you simply get the already corrupt leaders to sell a ‘contract for culture change’ – a CCC. Then we use the mass media to change the culture so they turn away from traditional family values & start to care about Le Bron James & the NBA -Matinski do you know how much money can be creamed out of 250 million people who love Apple Pie, America & NBA basketball”?
“I can imagine that skullduggery is worth a heap of cold….hard…cash, Shallowton”
I pulled out a $50 dollar note from my wallet, playing along with his penchant for theatrics.
“You ain’t wrong my friend – so that’s what this is – FUWO’s can be investments in the mass brainwashing an entire region or country via buying officials who don’t give a shit about their own people. They will green light your shonky investments, laundering & culture manipulation via ‘color revolutions’. Are ya following me Matinski”? He said like a maths school teacher & I nodded like a half-confused schoolboy. He continued.
“FUWO’s can also be hot wars – like Ukraine now. All hot wars through history have basically been the financial equivalent of a “smash & grab” at a jewellery store. With the chaos involved inside a a hot war there is no easier way to launder & steal assets for profit. No ones asks a thing! No accounting! No regulators! Hot Wars are the perfect crime! That’s what fuels the 1000% – to 10, 000% returns I mentioned. Hot wars are always the triple A plus investment Matinski!”
Shallowton took a big slug of his Martini slammed it down & pointed to the empty glass for a refill from the bartender. He then went to take a leak. Even American hedge fund big shots need to empty their bladders occasionally.
He still hadn’t told me how he lost the 137 billion – he’s been dancing around the question. How did this mofo actually fuck up & lose all that cold fusion level of cash? Did the CIA treasury man get his intel wrong & tell him to invest in the loser of a hot war? Was he just full of shit & this was all a bullshit story from a bored lonely guy?
I wanted answers. He walked back to the bar, dragged his stool forward & immediately started talking.
“So Matinski – I guess you’re wanting to know how it is that I lost 137 Billion instead of winning 137 Billion? I must apologise for my dilly dallying as you guys say”
“Yeah lets get to the crux of it all – my theory is either the CIA nicked your investment or you were accidentilly instructed to bet on the loser of a hot war due to bad intel”.
“Matinski my good fellow -that is the logical guess – but you’re wrong”.
I was waiting for him to continue but he just looked eyes forward at that mirrored booze shelf behind the bar. I looked at the reflection of us two. For a second, I saw what looked like two ‘has beens’. My image was of a strong but physically spent man; his was of a strung out, overly-skinny & looking like looney bin lock-up material – that is, if they still did that these days.
I rubbed my eyes & looked again. Now we somehow looked like half respectable gents – I assumed it was due to cognitive dissonance kicking in – after all we all see what we want to see, don’t we? The truth as they say, probably lay somewhere beteen the two extremes.
I waited five minutes, ten minutes & then twenty minutes for him to tell all – how he lost the billions. But he still just sat there like a sack of spuds sipping a Martini. That damn fly was still buzzing around. I was about to force him to tell the remainder of the story & plead with him not be an asshole, when he suddenly he sprung to action.
I heard a very loud CLAP sound as he killed the roaming fly by slamming his hands together on it. The fly dropped between our two half-drunken vessels. We both left it there – after all this place was a ‘dive bar’. Shallowton wiped his hands on his trouser legs. H then piped up again.
“Matinski – I like you man! You’ve just sat here like an old friend, & I haven’t asked you squat about yourself yet, you must think I’m a real prick? Has anuyone ever told you you are a great listener?”.
“Not really. No Shallowton, I don’t think you’re a real prick – I think you are a ‘figment of my imagination prick’….but despite that – yes, I will tell you a little about myself”.
He was a prick I thought to myself, but as I insinuated earlier, & you will probably agree – assholes are interesting. This is why women love asshole men. I was used to asshole culture anyway. I put that down to my overall tough poverty-stricken-in-a-small-town childhood & also from going to that prison like boarding school called “Chipsome Valley”. Us kids that went to that hellhole were called “Chippies”.
My parents neglectingly sent me to Chipsome boarding school – C.B.S.- for the same reasons all parents do. To avoid having to raise them themselves, & as a by-product they hoped the school would turn out a adult who would end up with a good job that would allow them to be upwardly socially mobile.
How did my poor parents afford to do that? Well, simple thanks to my mother who applied, I won a scholarship to go. At Chipsome we all became assholes. We were bred that way by design. In that jungle the weak died & became walking emotionally dead carcasses, & a more than a few became actually dead carcasses due to the bullying. The strong survived but they themselves became emotionally dead inside & in general configured to be permanently battle scarred adult robots – albeit with good jobs.
Now decades later as an adult, the only difference between me & all the other aging adult ex-boarding schoolers was that I had checked out at the part where I was supposed to cash in. I did it because I got sick of living & working with the same office ex-boarding school assholes in toxic environments. I broke out, I escaped the life-long brainwashed hollow destiny of Chipsome. I had belatedly jumped the prison walls.
Why did I like talking to Shallowton? Because this asshole reminded of a Chipsome created personality. I was intrigued. There was also no long term commitment. In a way I was kind of reminiscing. For the next hour I did the talking. I summed up my life & what brought me here. Shallowton lapped it up & strangely hung on my every word. The conversation finally petered out naturally.
“Matinski – sorry old fella it’s been a great night – but like all ‘fly by nighters’ I must now fly by night. You didn’t expect a guy who just lost $137 Billion to hang around with you too long did you?”
“You have to tell me the rest of the story Shallowton – sit down”. I said with this with faked authority.
This was when I saw the angry side of Shallowton.
“I don’t have to tell you shit Matinski – in fact I’ve told you too much already! Hell if I was like all my dirtbag colleagues I’d be arranging to have you taken out by now!”
At this late point in the night we were both drunk as skunks. We’d been drinking solidly for maybe five hours – no wonder I was a bit testy at his anal retentiveness, his avoidence to ‘tell all’. It was now time for me to show some teeth. I grabbed him by the throat. The bartender Sally didn’t flinch, she’d seen it all before.
“You fucking asshole, TELL ME THE FUCKING REST OF THE STORY SHALLOWTON”
“FUCK YOU MATINSKI! – YOU’LL BLAB YOUR FAT MOUTH ON ME -DON’T YOU GET IT? – I’M ON THE RUN, THAT WHY I’M IN THIS SHITTY DUELING BANJO JOINT OF A TOWN TALKING TO A HAS-BEEN LOSER LIKE YOU”
Then Sally the bartender piped up. She was aided by a fine powerful & beautifully cadenced voice. She’d watched without moving, & now decided that since there was a small chance it could escalate – she’d use her voice.
“HEY ASSHOLES QUIT IT! QUIT IT NOW!!!!” Oh ears rung out at her power. Now she went back to normal volume. “Look – you’ve both been great, don’t ruin it, don’t make me throw both your asses out to the curb. Sit down & have one on the house! You’ve entertained me, the hours have flown by. Let’s call it one for the road shall we gents?”
I released Shallowtons scruff & we took Sally’s advice & both sat back down. She piured both & we watched her in silence. She served them up. We took a few slow but sure slugs, we were now almost completely composed, our anger had floated off into the cosmos. I was resigned to the fact I’d never find out the end of his story or ghow things all tied together. Then Shallowton said this wearilly.
“Ok Ok Matinski – I’ll will tell ya the end of the story. I told you that I had lost $137 Billion dollars. That’s not entirely true. See with money & investments money is not lost – it’s only transferred. What that Gordon Gecko character said in that ‘Wall St’ movie was totally true”.
My ears pricked up, partly becasue ‘Wall St’ was one of my favourite movies. Shallowton took a slug & preened his hair with three fingers for a comb & continued.
“So now you know that that’s true, you can now see that the first Great Depression was a windfall for more than a few of our insiders. Same deal for the 1987 crash & the 2008 crash. These things are arranged – always….always…allways. And now soon thanks to me, & my ‘lost $137 Billion’, a new crash is soon not far away. So me & my real top tier investors sure won’t be the ones left holding the can – they’ll be hold the diamonds. Always..always…always”.
I was dumbfounded – Shallowton sounded like he knew some really high-level stuff – I was now in the camp that he might not be bullshitting. I shut my mouth took another sip with my eyes locked forward & listened ever more intently as Shallowton continued.
“You see Matinski that “lost 137 billion” is tommorrow going to be funnelled into another financial black hole – a totally separate one from the CIA raquet I was running around with. Using this new financial black hole, I will then re-leverage it one hundredfold to 13.7 trillion – around the same as the GDP of China. Then soon I’ll do the same again – & that’s enough to buy all the assets & all the people on Earth. I know what you’re thinking Matinski – you’re may ask yourself how I so easily flip of the CIA & the Swiss Banks & a few ragged Mom & Pop investors of their 1.37 billion, & then hook into another system that then inflates it to 1.37 Zillion dollars & not be assassinated in the process? It’s a good question isn’t it Matinski?”
He took another celebratory big slug.
I was now starting to realise I’d probably been had. Shallowton was now talking like a hollywood meglamaniac with a giant laser aimed at the Whitehouse, all in order to become the singular “World Dictator”. Hell I was half expecting him to start stroking a lap-sitting cat. I felt like a fool to allow my brain to flip flop like this.
He was probably just a typical bum who had been fired for finally flipping out at his shitty run-of-the-mill low paid corporate job. I didn’t say nothing to let him know that I doubted him. We had both just finished the last sip of Sally’s complementary beverages, when Shallowton started up talking again – I could tell this tall story was going to finally reach its inal climax – not that I cared anymore, knowing it was total horse-shit. It was ok, it was all in the name of entertainment. But then Shallowton’s words were pre-interrupted…. Sally the bartender piped up.
“Thank you fella’s, I’m glad we are still all friends, I was worried for a second. See you both maybe tomorrow?”
“Maybe” both I and Shallowton said in accidental unison. We’d somehow become ‘in sync’.
We walked out of the bar into what was now the early light. We stood in the middle of the empty road. there was no traffic at all at that hour. I was gonna say my final goodby when Shallowton beat me to it.
“Nice meeting you Matinski – by the way that story I told you was true – but I never told you the end of it. It’s really simple – I’m a salesman but not of any things made on Earth. I sell Asteroids that are laden with thousands of tons of precious materials. These materials are full of gold, platinum etc but that’s not why they are bought. These asteroids have elements that the Earth’s scientific system has never discovered…. or shall we say they have been allowed to discover.”
Shallowton needed a big breath after trotting those words out far too fast. He took the gasp & followed it with a big, I assume, gin based gulp – this time out of a stainless stell hip flask from his breast pocket.
“So your telling me the Scientists we see on the news & in the papers don’t know jack & are fed back leads in order that the good discoveries are never made? Yep I’d believe it”. Again Shackleton was preaching to the converted here. I’d long knew we average joes were all fed a huge variety of bullshit propaganda all in the name of mass docility & obedience. Shallowton continued.
“Of course that’s how it is fella! The stuff I’m selling that’s inside the space rocks is the key ingredient in space-faring technology that allows a space traveler to shrink opposite ends of the universe down to a simple hop skip & a jump away. now Matinski – we can’t have that for general public use now can we?! Slaves must remain slaves! That’s why I deal in zillions of dollars. I mean come on Matinski, be honest – how much would you pay to have access to an infinite number of habitable worlds that are so good for living & so spectacular that they are akin to visiting heaven!”
I replied somewhat enthusiastically. this was despite my alcohol & late night & middle-age fueled tiredness. lier or not – I like Shallowton’s story, especially now it had a sci-fi element.
“That would sure be worth paying admission to Shallowton! So I now think I’m starting to understand things – you swindle the smartest most criminally evil earthlings in order to raise capital to buy asteroids that turn the entire unknown, mostly untraversed universe into a utopian-elitist-rich-mans playground. The Earthian great unwashed are never the wiser to the travel itself or the advanced propulsion possibilities or the scam to fund it! I suppose along the way you live a very interesting life for yourself”
“Bingo Matinski – Bingo”. . .it’s all about fun….fun glorious fun!” Shackleton again looked very proud of himself but then gre sombre. “It’s a shame normal people on Earth arn’t allowed to have fun these days, but that was the decision that was made & we can’t go back Matinski”.
A thought then flashed into my mind about his asteroids story.
“So what’s the key element called that allows easy intergalactic space travel Sahllowton?”
“We call it Triptipium – but I didn’t tell you that ok Matinski – were not due to tell you guys that till 2071”
A dog starts barking in the distance, then it stops, followed by the dog whining. I guessed its owner had firmly grabbed it by the collar in anger. This stimulated Shallowton’s mind.
“You see Matinski, in order to understand the world, you need to always look for the dog that’s not barking” – you always need to look for the stuff that strangely no ones talking about. That’s where the truth always lies.
“But Shallowton – exactly who is buying these Triptipium filled expensive rocks that allow instantaneous, faster than light & gravity defeating galactic travel. Which evil overlords do you fucking sell this shit too!?”
“Matinski – I never said the travel was instantaneous, but the Lorentz time reduction factor is ninety-nine point nine nine percent. But you are right on the anti-gravity. On the travel time matter – with the particular quantum properties of the elements extracted from these asteroids – you can actually end up being able to travel backwards & forwards in time. But in doing so you use up way too much Triptipium – so we don’t generally use the technology as a time-machine. Pleasure cruises that use efficient affordable nanograms of precious Triptipium are our game. But don’t worry about all that – that’s just details.”
I was getting frustrated as I again felt I was being led down the garden path – or in this case the intergalactic garden path. But I had hung around with this guy for six hours now so I may as well hear the last few seconds of him out. He continued his train of thought.
“Ok Matinski – I promise I’m almost finished. You asked who I sell these things to – well I must admit to you now that I do not actually sell the asteroids – I apologise for the trickery, but in my game you don’t want to tell the whole truth right away – there is always a distinct non-zero chance that someone is not just a simple bartender for example.”
“Yeah, I understand Shallowton – all is forgiven, continue”.
I was now dog-tired & just hoped he would finish talking.
“Thanks, Matinski, you are definitely one hundred percent a great guy. Ok remember I said I am not the seller – so what does that make me? I am the buyer. But it is true that the guy who sells me these valuable asteroids does all those things I talked about earlier – except not on Earth of course. So Matinski, if you are smart you will have a good question for me now, won’t you?”
I did have a good question for Shallowton.
“So, if you are the buyer then you must be able to traverse the Universe as you like, going anywhere, in backwards in time fashion”.
“Go on Matinski, go on” Said Shallowton slowly & with a tinge on arrogance.
“This means you must have access to the advanced tech – the galactic propulsion systems. Once you probably use the only-backwards-in-time-time-machine-slash space-craft, you certainly can’t go back to your home planet – for that would be far to risky a thing to do -after all Einsteins theory of special relativity says you’d arrive millions of years in their future. You’d be a duck out of water & perhaps you’d then be incarcerated by the future Earth rulers, or due to climate change you might arrive in a desert with no oxygen to breath. In short you can’t risk that.”
“Yes Matinski, Yes” Shallowton said pointing at me & speaking in drawn out fashion.
“So Shallowton if your story is not all horse-shit, the fact you are here means that Earth is not your home planet, & you are an Alien being of some discription”
“Yes Yes Correct – and….and?”
“Well then this means you have Earth as your destination – so compared to your home planet before you jumped in the space-craft, you must have seen Earth as some kind of Utopian holiday destination?”
“Well – yes that is true Matinski – you are almost entirely correct – but there is one thing you’re forgetting about”.
“What’s that Shallowton”?
I said the words haltingly as by now my brain was so frazzled I didn’t know what to believe anymore – though I was now swinging back to believing this drunk Alien – I mean you couldn’t honestly make this stuff up. The interlinking of the story elements was too intricate, & it all seemed to ring true.
“Well Matinski, you Earthlings travel, but it’s not all one kind of travel – for example some of you people on Earth take sporting holidays, some take hiking holidays, some swimming holidays & some highly cultured types take restaurant or ballet watching holidays…..do you understand Matinski?
“Of course – yes – so what type of holiday are you on Shallowton? – It seems that you here for the alcohol & cocktail swilling life that Earth caters heartilly for… all at semi affordable prices…especially so at one of the many fly-captivating, dirty dank but delectable…dive bars”.
I could tell Shallowton liked the poetic nature of my words.
“Well, Matinski – we are finally here, I’m so sorry to delay you so much but you see now you know my game the time has come to tell you that I am here for….. food… yes food…& um, well let’s just say we fellows from my part of the Universe are, are protein eaters & not at all vegans or vegetarians.”
“But you drank beer – those hops are vegetables or fruit, one of the two!”
“Yes, but the main sustenance is protein, old Matinski – & well…there’s no easy way to say this…”
Shallowton scratched his actually-now-that-I realised-it, quite oversized head. He then & blinked his now-that-I-realised-it, equally quite oversized eyes. He did actually look like he could be a human-alien hybrid or a humanoid.
I hadn’t noticed these things due to me getting drunker & drunker in that dark dingey pub, but only now that the sun’s early light was around. I would say Shallowton looked 90% Earthling & 10% Alien. That aside I was still annoyed that Shallowton again seemed to be holding back at little on his story. I couldn’t believe it, but I was about to scold an possible Alien intergalactic ruler.
“Fuck it Shallowton – just spit it out man! I’m tired of you stringing this story out damn it!!!” My spittle flew into his one meter away face. He wiped it away nonchalently.
“Ok Ok…..I’ll tell ya the plain cold ugly truth……I eat Human’s Matinski…..I & my kind eat Human beings, & that’s the main reason I & the others are here this week. ..you Homo Sapiens are the tastiest thing in the whole Milkey Way – you are even crispier than those fat little chubby humanoids nearby on the Scutum-Centaurus arm. You’re far tangy-er that the tall slim bald ones over in the Trappist star system – take it from me Matinski – food-wise you Homo Sapiens are to die for. On top of that there are so many of you. When I come here I’m like a fat kid in a overly stocked candy store”.
I couldn’t believe I was about to ask this question, but I did anyway.
“Shallowton – you’re not going to eat me are you?”
With that Shallowton did what he was good at – he hit the ground laughing, rolling around theatrically, waving his arms and making one hell of a racket. Luckily it was still only five in the morning so no one cared or was around to raise alarm. Eventually Shallowton got up & stared me square in the eyes.
“Matinski”
“Yes Shallowton?”
“I only eat Female Homo Sapiens – sorry but you ‘Males’ taste like crap – far to gamey – I mean most of you spend your lives lifting heavy things, running around, digging holes banging in nails! I mean your meat is what you earthlings call ‘too gamey’. No no no I prefer the succulent juicy females – overall not gamey at all, they mostly relax & do work where they hardly move around much at all – I think you Earthlings call it ‘office work’ – am I correct Matinski – office work?”
Finally, I had all of Shallowton’s wild story. I decided to, for now, block out its implications. With that there was only one or should I say two things to say.
“Yep, the ladies do a lot of office work that’s correct – I’m sure they would be less gamey that the males. Now lets finally call it a night. Thanks for the tall but maybe true stories, & I’ll see you tomorrow at the Bar Shallowton”.
Shallowton said nothing else, he looked a little miffed that I half suggested his wild words might all be just a drunks ramblings – albeit a very creative drunk’s ramblings.
I walked one way, & l thanked my lucky stars when I saw Shallowton walk in drunken zig-zag fashion in the opposite direction. When soon my head hit my pillow, I allowed myself one final thought.
“Wow what a night – this is why I still drink regularly at age forty-six, some boozy nights you strike a big nugget”.
Three months have past by & I haven’t seen that very strange out-of-towner named Shallowton again. But it is worth mentioning these strange things that all happened in quick-step time after his absence:
After about a weeks break , I turned up to Buzzy’s Bar. It was of course the same as it had always been – except there was a male bartender serving instead of Sally. Sally had been there twenty years, & she was part of the furniture – so she was part of my psychic furniture too.
I thought it strange she wasn’t there, but I didn’t think any more of it. Some questions in life are better left unasked. Most unasked questions are soon answered after the flow of time. I wasn’t worried. This was until I saw her face & name posted on a lamp post with the words “Missing Person”. A ridiculous thought entered my mind – did Shallowton eat her??. I chided myself for the thought.
I went about my normal life’s routines – painted fences, ripped up weeds & banged in a few nails. I was happy enough doing it, as I had been for a decade – it allowed survival & a simpler life.
About a couple of weeks after last seeing Shackleton there was big news about the DOW sharemarket index – it had tumbled 39% in one day, sparked by news that a Swiss bank – one of a three key Swiss banks that bankroll the big four US investment houses – had collapsed.
That same day I opened up a financial news web page to read more about the big fall in the DOW it & one sentence made my blood run cold. The headline said this
DOW DOWN 39% ON FEARS FROM SWISS BANK FAILIURE STEMMING FROM TOXIC USD 123 BILION LOAN
What were the chances of the toxic debt being the exact amount Shallowton had said he had taken out as a loan for his shonky financial fraud dealings to leverage the hell out of & eventully buy those fancy asteroids to use for intergalactic pleasure cruises? All in order to come to planets like Earth to barbeque its female-gendered inhabitants? I told myself over & over that it surely couldn’t be true. Yes truth is always stranger than fiction – but come on!
The thing that finally made me realise the truth about Shallowton was when the next-days front page news said this:
CIA SAYS THEY HAVE CAPTURED A VERY TALL ALIEN BEING WHO CALLS HIMSELF ‘SHALLOWTON’ WHO SAYS HE IS HERE ON APLEASURE CRUISE INTERGALACTIC HOLIDAY TO EAT SUCCULANT NON GAMEY TASTING FEMALE HOMO SAPIENS
That was when I knew Shallowton was just as I had guessed from my first impressions of him at Buzzy’s Dive Bar: he was a freewheeling, well-dressed, silver-tongued devil – a big town blow in kinda, guy who I probably couldn’t trust. A liar, a charletan.
I mean the CIA manicured headline said it all – as if I was going to believe the CIA – I mean these were the same guys that killed Kennedy?! If they were peddling it – I knew it was simple disinformation.
There was wall to wall coverage of it all, with the relevant official talking heads all saying it was indeed bone fide. The story was so whack & the populace so twentyfirst century jaded that the public like me also just figured it was yet another shadow govt deep state disnformation campaign. I mean to me the main proof was that It wasn’t as if suddenly half the females were dissapearing.
But then pretty soon the joke was on all us Earthian doubters, the worlds females did start dissapearing. On top of that it became commenplace to see a swoosh of light approach a young female from above, followed by a blood curdling scream. immediately after that had happened, all that was left was there clothes in a heap all covered in blood.
Also the reports all showed that the dead were all exclusively office workers. Female tradesmen & agricultural workers around trhe world were all totally untouched. The older women & female children were also all totally spared from devouration – but the eighteen to thirty age group of urban office workers were all decimated in but a week in Shallowton & co’s alien feeding frenzy pleasure cruise.
After the global mega-shock of all the targeted killings, the worse was suddenly over – soon the economy, unemployment, the sharemarket, the mass cultural shock of it all had fallen to it’s worst. Now things started slowly to improve. Now you only heard occasional reports of the killings. They were now only picked off here & there. The feeding frenzy had changed to a light occaisional picnic.
Earth’s people got used to it all & the new ways of life was all normalised. The sharemarket started to climb again, the jobs market improved with the mostly forty plus unemployed men now needed to replace the alien-consumed-office-females lost.
Yes it’s true that Human beings suck – but with their backs against the wall they are as plucky as desert rats or dive bar flies. I took all the shit in my stride – Bu now I had long lost all mental energy that would be needed to freak out anyway.
Around that time, I walked into Buzzy’s. Through the madness I’d helped it stay open, along with a few other old bar flies – thanks mainly to all the stress filled commiseration drinking. But would you believe it? – Sally was behind the Bar pouring beers. I literally fell over in shock. I was sure she’d been chomped.
We hugged & talked. She told me that she had simply gone on giant off grid road trip without telling anyone or taking her phone. She’d missed ninety percent of the five months of madness the Earth & she had the insanely out-of-this world good luck to return now things were settling down. It was almos too lucky to believe her.
I was understandably over-the-moon happy that her life & thus our partial but real low key relationship was in tact. Sally was alive – that was all that really mattered to an aging-broken lonely-bar-fly like myself, as sad as that seems. Yes, she was the most amazing probably slightly ‘too gamey’, thirty-one-year-old woman around. I started the usual opening line in celebration & she played along heartily.
“Yo Sally!
“Yo Matinski you Ol’ Bastard”
“Lady Sally What’s a fine out-of-this-world girl like you doing in a place like this”
“Matinski you old asshole! I’m here for one reason & one reason only: Killing is my business & business is good”.
“So long as I only die slowly with a smile on my dial, Sally”
“That’s a Deal Matinski”.
Our little routine somehow now had a little more gravitas this time.
That same night a tall lanky well-dressed out-of town looking guy sat a few bar stools away from me & ordered a Martini without fanfare. Sally served it without a word. We nodded quietly to acknowledge each other but made sure to ourselves.
After all – there was nothing more to be said. We all knew the ‘War’ was over & it was time to enjoy the peace. Why rake over old coals? Or Zillion-dollar, black-market, Triptium laden, space-travel-providing asteroids for that matter.
After all the upheaval Earth had seen, everyone knew we’d have to learn to ‘love the alien’ – so long as their ‘chomping’ was in line with the Paris Peace Treaty that had recently been hammered out between the very trustable, stand up, totally uncorrupted Earthian leaders & Shallowton’s Intergalactic lot. I told myself surely nothing could go wrong from here on in.
For all us Earthian average joe slave-class ones, cognitive dissonance was now our best bet, along with dirty glassed beers from the millions of fly ridden dive bars around the world of course. This simple mind trick allowed us all to ‘enjoy the peace’…for a while.
Sally gave me some beer nuts, they were the imported german ones I didn’t like. I ate one – weirdly it tasted good. I scoffed the rest down greedily. I guess my palatte had changed over the last few months.
THE END
Anton Martin Smith Writer 