'Twas the night before Christmas and still the Fish groused, All his features were blurring, 'cause the Hack was so soused Their stock picks had climbed North and then headed South, Thanks to faulty advice and the Hack's big old mouth. "Keep drinking, old boy, so you won't feel the pain Of my fist when I twist it through your useless brain." The Fish, he was violent - a fact known to few. But a Fish has no fists, so then what could he do? He could stew in his own juices, hoo dog, and how! He could bust veins and feign pain and plain have a cow, He could bitch and moan, whine and groan, gripe at the Hack, But all his groaning couldn't bring the cash back.
	Next ... Our story continues.