The events of last week, wherein the most majestic hedge fund in all the land was implicated in the insider trading scandal du jour, were deeply distressing to us all. While SAC was reviewing the trades in question, and, thankfully, clearing itself of any wrongdoing, we went in search of a more visceral sign. Something that would say, “Nothing to see here.” Or: “Back it up, SEC. You don’t want a piece of this.” Or: “Take one step closer, and I’m not kidding, I’ll take this golf club, and I’ll bust open your skull.” Or, more simply: “Nobody fucks with the king.” This weekend in Southern Connecticut, we found it.
I don’t think anything else needs to be said here other than the King hath spoken. And also, that in my quest to clear the big guy’s name, this will be the first in a series that will be playing for the rest of the week, thanks to a generous friend of a friend. Tomorrow: the king of diamonds. You don’t want to miss it.
[For those of you ignoramuses who have no idea what the above is about, familiarize yourselves here. These were conceived, posed for, and distributed in a limited amount by SC and Co. several years ago, perhaps knowing they’d come in handy some day.]