“It tells time. So does mine.”

“Mine looks better.”

“Four thousand times better?”

“Actually, yes. You look like a tool with that watch. Does it have a calculator?”

“As a matter of fact, it doesn’t. I used to have a calculator watch, though.”

“Did you write ‘BOOBLESS’ upside down on it?”

“Funny. I’d like to see you try and get a grand for that thing in the pawn shop when the market crashes.”

“Stop.”

“Yeah, enough with the crash talk,” says Tod, squinting through his hangover, practically drooling on his shirt. “Talk about whistling past a graveyard. We’re all long a boatload of stock.”

“Savage, you’ve called seven out of the last two crashes,” says Johan.

“You called zero out of the last two. You sold your car in ’98 because of LTCM, when Lehman almost went tits up. And you couldn’t sublet the parking spot. Remember?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Tod goes back to being miserable.

“This market is all fluff,” I proclaim. “You guys should really start thinking about putting some away instead of buying six thousand dollar watches. You can earn six percent on cash, did you know that?”

“Long and strong, baby,” said Johan, who bought Pfizer stock upon learning of Viagra, and never sold a share. “Strong like bull.”

“You’re a retard. This is the biggest bubble ever known to mankind. You guys are going to get annihilated.”

“The retard’s buying lunch with the twenty-two large he made in his P.A. yesterday. Not like alligator arms earning six percent would ever reach for his wallet.”

“Good. I’ll eat one of your steak sandwiches.”

“Of course you will.”

“Yeah. It’ll be the Last Supper.”

* * * *

I call T22 joker broker again. Voice mail. He had better show up to work today. I have to trade the PALM spinoff.

Tully rolls in, an hour late, as is customary. I allow it, because he outmaneuvers me. Every morning I have to give him the Diet Coke update. It is our ritual.

“How many so far?”

“Two.”

“Not that thirsty.”

“Not as thirsty as Tod, apparently.”

“Savage Jr. tied one on last night?” he asks playfully, taking off his coat, hanging it on the back of his chair, instead of in the coat closet, which annoys me.

Tod waves at Tully pitifully and goes back to being miserable again.

“Jesus, Savage, get the kid a bacon egg and cheese before he shats himself.”

“He can get his own.”

“It costs a dollar,” he says.

“It costs two dollars,” I reply. “Two hundred twenty-five days, that’s four hundred fifty bucks a year.”

“That’s like a second of your theta. A half-second.”

“It’s real money. That’s like five nights in a hotel.”

Tully roars with laughter, with Johan joining in. “Dude, that’s like one night in a hotel, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Laugh it up, asswipe. Wait until—“

“Don’t worry,” says Johan, “we already got the lecture once this morning. In fact, the market might have already crashed by now. Let me check the spooz,” he says, turning to look at the screens.