“Hi. Amalgamated Widget here. Please halt trading in our stock, as we have a press release to issue later today.”
Hey, AW, manhattan here. It’s seven fucking fifty four in the evening, thank you very much. Your shares don’t trade in Tokyo, for cripes sake. In fact, they barely trade here because you are such losers that you couldn’t make your damn interest payments.
So issue the damn release! I want to know how much more money I’m going to lose as a result of my dumb decision to trust your new big-shot managment. Then I want to go home.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
P.S. By the way, if it’s something lame, like “we hired someone to review restructuring alternatives” or “yes, we’re finally confirming that we ain’t gonna make the numbers we said we’re gonna make,” or “we finally capitulated to the obvious and filed for bankruptcy,” I’m gonna be really pissed. It better be something like “we got an offer for the company” or “our Chairman cut and ran.”
Well, a hug wouldn’t suck, but what I really need is a beer. And a cigarette, but I’m off them.
And there’s a whole bunch of them (beers, that is, not cigarettes), on ice, waiting patiently for me at this fine establishment, where the marvelous Melanie or Tracy will even buy my first round since I haven’t been there for a while (and because I set up their savings plans!).
But no! I’m sitting here waiting for the stupid press release! Gaaaah!
This just in… AW really had no new news to release. They justed wanted to piss of manny by making him wait at home while everybody else was out having a good time.
Yeah, they finally did. “We’ve filed for bankruptcy protection.”
“In other news, our forest products division has found bear spoor in the woods. We’ll publish our conclusions about this startling development later.” Schmucks.
And Biggirl, I’ll have you know that that is the most wholesome bartender-panty-eating establishment in the whole city!
