Evil Glenn's Investment Advice (A Filthy Lie)
(Part II of the Evil Glenn Saga)
Chief Harvey gave out the latest assignment last night, and he seems to get confused in the middle of it.
Everyone knows it costs more to get a one-line ad posted at Instapundit than it does to buy 120 seconds of airtime in the middle of the Superbowl. So what does Glenn do with all that money? I'll bet he's got a brilliant plan for it all. Which I want you to discover.After losing Akatsuki two weeks before, I was in a downer. She was an excellent reporter, always with the best stories. Modestly cute, too - but she had disappeared. When Harvey sent this note out to the Alliance, I figured this would be my best chance to find out what happened to her. I quickly donned a John Bolton-esque moustache and packed my bags. I was going to Tennessee as a British businessman. The name was (insert British accent) Reg. Reginald Fairfield. (Do not ask how I know of this)
Your Filthy Lie Assignment this week is to answer the question:
If you asked Evil Glenn for investment advice, what would he tell you?
The trip to Evil Glenn's Evil Hideout which the University of Tennessee somehow ignored (it had a big "Kentucky Sucks" banner on it, so maybe they just figured it was a regular building anyway) was an uneventful one. However, as soon as I arrived at the door, it began raining blood. That was usually not a good sign.
When I opened the door to Evil Glenn's office, his chair was turned around. I could see part of his computer screen. It looked to be pornographic. Whether it was penguin-related or Lebanese-chick-related, I wouldn't know. Without turning around, he spoke. "Ah, Mitsurugi of Mitsurugi's Baba Ganoosh. I'm disappointed Harvey only sent you. Well, you and the Taco Bell Chihuahua, but I... dealt with that earlier. Let's just say tacos go great with pureed puppy." I winced. He continued. "Yes, so, Mitsurugi, have you come to find out about your female friend?"
"Actually", I started, "You've got the wrong guy. My name is Reginald Fairfield, and I'm looking for investment advice." My plan did not work.
"Reginald Fairfield? Don't make me laugh. Every evil law professor knows that was Boy Meets World, Episode 55." I cringed. I had only heard the name in passing. He must have looked it up on google in the three seconds I wasn't watching. Either that, or he had absolutely no life at all.
"Well, since I'm such an EVIL guy, I'll give you investment advice anyway. My first suggestion is that you either pay me 300 dollars, or you never leave here alive." I quickly paid up, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the chihuahua. "You should by ten shares of Homeless Orren Boyle's Oil. The stock ticker is, of course, HOBO. Just the name makes me want to worship Satan some more. Speaking of Satan, another wise investment is to sell your soul to him, like I did."
I interrupted. "Excuse me?"
Evil Glenn quickly recovered. "I like chocolate. Don't worry. Have one - it's not made of puppies. I haven't quite perfected that recipe. But as I was saying. You want to earn lots of money on the market? Invest in PenguiPorn, ticker symbol PGPRN. On a related note, Lebanese chicks are quite hot."
I interrupted again. "Excuse me? What does that have to-"
"SILENCE!" I silenced. "If you ever want to see your precious reporter again, you'll take my advice. If you own stock of any company that makes plush dolls, I suggest you sell it. The plush industry is looking at hard times ahead." I thought I heard a knock from the far wall, and a voice that sounded like Andrew Sullivan's, but then I figured I made it up.
It was then that the floor dropped out from under me and I found myself back outside. I had failed in both my missions, and all I learned was that Glenn Reynolds was a huge Boy Meets World fan. That made one of us. Man, I hated that show. I also had to report the bad news to Taco Bell. That was gonna be ugly.
Post Script: When dealing with Evil Glenn's investment advice, Caveat Instapundo Delenda McGannouj. Whatever that means. By the way - to answer the first question: What did Evil Glenn do with the money? Buy the "Calendar Girls of Lebanon". That, and lots of plush dolls.
Post Post Script: Anyone who followed Glenn's advice for the year ended up with a 1.4 million hit increase and 60,000 dollar net increase. They also sold their soul to Satan, got arrested for Penguin Porn Possession and got 10 years in jail for punching prison warden Frank J.
PPPS: I've been rather prolific in posting today, haven't I? Don't expect this again anytime soon.