The Street
High Yield Bonds

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Stee: B- | Grade It Now!
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High Yield Bonds

Trading offices. TES walks with Rickman and says, "What can I tell you, it just didn't feel right." Rip Taylor, Charles Nelson Reilly, and Jim J. Bullock all walk by and call TES a pussy. Predictably, Rickman thinks that TES is foolish for doing nothing. They walk into the morning meeting Goldberg leads. Rickman continues, "It's time to [lost because the sound department continues to suck ass] your [somethings] off with random babes. And don't think Alex is letting any grass grow -- you know where she was with Mitchell last night? Dance lessons." TES sadly says that the dance lessons were for their wedding. Goldberg hands the meeting over to The Rocke-who, who brags that Randy Hoter from Chicago Trust is going to be in town (he handles five hundred million in revenue) and that she's trying to snag his business away from his current firm and has a meeting set up with him tomorrow and look what a good little VP am I. Giancarlo then says that BigTrader, Robert Blagman, had open heart surgery and is in the hospital, so "send a card." Send a script doctor.

Rickman promptly follows Giancarlo into the bathroom -- I guess they fixed the doors after Nicky NotKatt threw his little hissyfit and broke them all last week -- and asks about Hoter's client list. As we see Giancarlo drop trou, he says, "You disgust me, Sacker." Kettle. Pot. "You know, Tom, Everyone's thinking it. I'm just saying it." He replies that it's "Blagman's decision."

Hospital room. Rickman arrives in his co-worker's room. BigTrader is hooked up to machines; his wife Patty hugs Rickman and thanks him for coming. She leaves. Blagman wakes up enough to listen to Rickman babble, "God, Robert. This is so terrible. You know, I wish there was something that I could do." Blagman says that there is, and Rickman dusts off his concerned face, puts it on, and listens. Blagman asks Rickman if he'll stop by his apartment and do him a favor: "Would you mind, on your way home, could ya, swing by, tomorrow after work, and satisfy Patty?" Rickman laughs until it becomes clear that it wasn't a joke. "She needs it, Freddie. Once a day. At least. Twice. Three times. God, what a woman! But the doctor, the doctor says I can't do it. If I pop the weasel, I'll die." Okay, so Patty is kinda large and I guess that's sort of the joke here -- why Rickman really doesn't want to do it. Fidelity being low on his list of priorities (he slept with a hooker in episode one), he nevertheless lies, claiming that he can't because of his wife. Blagman begs, saying that that way he knows they won't run off together and she'll still get her lovin' du jour: "Otherwise she's going to find greener pastures. Freddie, I can't live without her, Freddie. I love her! Please. Please say you'll do her for me. Please, Freddie." And...cut. And...commercial. And...nap.

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The Street

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