Shrimp and Cocktails

Just as predicted, the week ended badly. As of Friday, the pirates still held Houston, the shrimpers were still stuck in the submarine, and Florida's Governor surprised everybody by announcing he planned to run against himself.

On Monday, you'll remember, Somali pirates captured a British Petroleum oil rig off the coast of Louisiana. The Somali pirates held the rig for ransom, which British Petroleum refused to pay, so the pirates scuttled the drilling platform by hitting it repeatedly with a large African parrot. Pet store stocks skyrocketed.

The collapsing oil rig landed on its own umbilical cord, nearly a mile beneath the surface of the Gulf of Mexico, a body of water that recently had illegally migrated to Arizona to enjoy free health care. The fragile cord cracked, spilling millions of petro-dollars into the Gulf. The White House claimed that the incident saved or created 23 million job-shaped oil slicks. Oil stocks skyrocketed.

Eager to accept its civic responsibility for this disaster, British Petroleum started suing obscure companies, a move which the White House claimed saved or created 23 million law schools. Thousands of local shrimpers and fishermen (all named Odephus Tibideaux) appeared in television interviews, demanding BP reimburse them for lost income, and beer money. BP's legal department countered, citing an obscure 1851 court ruling that clearly showed the entire incident to be George Bush's fault.

Public sentiment, however, was on the side of the sea-folk, especially after the un-shrimped shrimp population began to grow, and middle-aged shrimp started showing up in the lobbies of Pensacola resort hotels, wearing Bermuda shorts and demanding drink coupons. Clearly, something had to be done. A quick political coalition was formed between Louisiana's senior Senator (Odephus Tibideaux) and the Governor of Mississippi (Medieval Barbour), and thanks to their quick efforts, British Petroleum was designated as "too big to fail." BP stock skyrocketed.

Out-of-work shrimpers negotiated a temporary employment deal with BP, in return for the shrimpers agreeing to, as Odephus Tibideaux described the meeting, "sign here." Then the shrimpers boarded a circa-1851 submarine, made by Halliburton, and headed down to the ocean floor to deal with The Leak. Halliburton stock skyrocketed.

After posting his weekly Twitter address to the nation, the President of the United States flew down to the Gulf Coast. (He didn't take Air Force One; he just flew.) The President met with Odephus Tibideaux and, according to inside sources, nodded knowingly. The White House claimed that, while on the coast, the President performed or created 23 million miracles. In a touching moment of raw emotion, MSNBC kneeled and proposed to the President.

Meanwhile, stymied by America's flawless, impenetrable immigration policy, the Somali pirates sailed directly into downtown Houston where, in a clever early-morning coup, they kidnapped the entire Houston police department at a Dunkin' Donuts. Krispy Kreme stock skyrocketed.

Late Tuesday, the shrimper submariners ran into a snag on the ocean floor when their communication cables got tangled in Geraldo Rivera's moustache, who was on the seabed filming a FoxNews documentary about Jimmy Hoffa, who was deep-sixed in 1851 by George Bush. CNN stock skyrocketed.

Faced with flagging poll numbers, Florida's Governor held a mid-week rally for vacationing shrimp in Pensacola, forming a marsh-roots political movement and promising to provide shrimp an equitable representation in chicken salad. During the rally, according to the White House, the Governor switched or created parties 23 million times, breaking the 1851 record held by the founder of Louisiana, Odephus Tibideaux.

On Thursday, though it did not directly affect the situation in the Gulf of Mexico, Senator Orrin "Booby" Hatch was whisked away for psychiatric evaluation after he interviewed a Supreme Court nominee. According to inside sources, Hatch spent the entire session babbling about a prized flintlock firearm hanging on the wall in his office. Whew. Anti-psychotic drug stocks skyrocketed.

And then it all came full circle. A clever commodities broker spotted all these rising stocks, whipped together an alchemic algorithm, and struck pay dirt. He encoded a message to the submariners, promising them untold riches if they would just "sign here." The local shrimpers, sick to the gills of life on a circa-1851 submarine that wasn't wired for cable, wired their collective savings accounts to the broker.

But the over-eager trader acted poorly. After a few too many celebratory nips at lunch, he wobbled back to his firm and, shortly, he had that undeniable urge to visit the Little Broker's Room. But in his addled condition, he misjudged and entered the firm's computer center. On the wall inside the door were two labeled on-off switches:

1) Lights

2) Global Economic Collapse

Yep. There's the week, explained. As predicted, it ended badly.

World markets went postal. In seconds, fortunes vanished. Vacationing shrimp in Pensacola lost everything. Sarah Palin had to sell her election-cycle shoe collection to Imelda Marcos. Al Gore was forced to pull back and buy only one multi-million dollar home in California. A suddenly destitute Orrin Hatch had to list his precious flintlock on eBay, where it was purchased by an extremely incompetent naturalized American citizen who tried to use it to blow up Times Square.

A furious fiscal ripple resonated across the world's markets, ultimately causing Goldman Sachs to have to buy Greece, an ancient civilization that flourished, even without cable, until it collapsed in 1851, a disaster which we now know was George Bush's fault.