The rotten slags of this world. But I could protect him if only he would pay me the half a million pounds he owes me.
Well, I've been speaking to Bobby. He phoned me earlier: 'Mikey, I'm in trouble, man. Serious trouble. (Yeah?) Mikey, did you hear me? (What do you want me to do about it, Bobby? I ain't your spiritual master no more.) I thought we were friends. (Where's my money?) You'll get your money. (Don't fuck me around, Bob. You're paying out a fortune to those FSA freaks. They'll be up to their necks in champagne, and caviar, and lap dancers. I worked for that money. You wouldn't be chief executive of Barclays if it wasn't for me.) Mike, I'm not going to be the chief much longer anyway. (What, you resigning?) I don't know. Who's this Lord Oakeshott? (Some political type. They make you look like an amateur, these politicians.) What am I going to do? (Pay me.) Mikey, do you have any idea how bad it will look in the media if I choose this moment to give £500,000 to some mystical shaman for "consultancy" work? They'll put me away in the nuthouse. I'll be in the padded room next to you! (Forget the money, then. I don't need it.) Are you serious? (Yeah. Fuck it. It means I'm getting closer to God. That can't be a bad thing.) Are you going to help me, Mike? (I don't know.) Please!'
What a mess, eh? I'm not sure why there's such a fuss about this LIBOR stuff. The whole world is corrupt. Why should bankers be any different? Are they supposed to be saints? / Dear reader(s), you will have to answer to God one day. Are you prepared?
Well, I've been speaking to Bobby. He phoned me earlier: 'Mikey, I'm in trouble, man. Serious trouble. (Yeah?) Mikey, did you hear me? (What do you want me to do about it, Bobby? I ain't your spiritual master no more.) I thought we were friends. (Where's my money?) You'll get your money. (Don't fuck me around, Bob. You're paying out a fortune to those FSA freaks. They'll be up to their necks in champagne, and caviar, and lap dancers. I worked for that money. You wouldn't be chief executive of Barclays if it wasn't for me.) Mike, I'm not going to be the chief much longer anyway. (What, you resigning?) I don't know. Who's this Lord Oakeshott? (Some political type. They make you look like an amateur, these politicians.) What am I going to do? (Pay me.) Mikey, do you have any idea how bad it will look in the media if I choose this moment to give £500,000 to some mystical shaman for "consultancy" work? They'll put me away in the nuthouse. I'll be in the padded room next to you! (Forget the money, then. I don't need it.) Are you serious? (Yeah. Fuck it. It means I'm getting closer to God. That can't be a bad thing.) Are you going to help me, Mike? (I don't know.) Please!'
What a mess, eh? I'm not sure why there's such a fuss about this LIBOR stuff. The whole world is corrupt. Why should bankers be any different? Are they supposed to be saints? / Dear reader(s), you will have to answer to God one day. Are you prepared?
