Message to all traders!

[Riley Mackenzie]

Riley leans back on the couch in his quarters within the top tower of his whale & props his feet up on the coffee table while watching the latest 'trader warning' on the media wall.

Taking a sip of his morning tea, he chuckles to himself with equal parts amusement & irritation as he plots an alternate route to his destination through his neural net.

'I at least give them credit for a touch of style' the man thinks to himself.

Remembering the old expression You can get further with a kind word & a gun than you can with just a kind word, Mr. Mackenzie begins doing the math in his head, calculating the amount being asked by the upstart group.

He adds the delusion of grandeur factor contained in the words, adds the amount asked by the multitudes of others during his daily runs, ponders the odds of this new group truly being able to keep in cheque all the others that also want 'protection money' & concludes that not only is ten million a day unreasonable, if he were to even bother to add in the universal 'give them an inch & they'll take a mile' factor & couple that figure with the equally universal 'monkey see-monkey do' variable, the grand total would run him out of business in two shakes of one lamb's tail.

With another shake of his head, he cracks a smile & takes another sip of his tea, muttering under his breath:

"These blokes must be high."

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