The Blair Wise Project

By Rick Aristotle Munarriz (TMF Edible)

Adapted from Rick's August 25, 1999 Rule Breaker Recap

Is this thing on? Hello? Testing one two. Why isn't the red light going on? I thought the red light would be on. No? Wonderful. Now where did everybody go? Gone? OK, roll the trailer...

Announcer: In October of 1994, three full-service brokers disappeared near Alexandria, Virginia, on a cold-calling expedition. A year later their tapes were found.

Broker 1 (cradling telephone receiver while tongue flossing his teeth): Trust me. I'll beat the S&P 500 like a Denny's three-egg omelet. Piece of cake.

Broker 2 (adjusting her headset): No, no, no, load mutual funds are great. Yes. Great. Why are they called load? Oh, ummm, that's because they are load-ed with good nutrition? Yes, no, maybe? Hey! Are you still there?

Broker 3 (wiping sweat off his brow and barking into speakerphone): Listen, I don't care if you're having dinner right now, I've just been tipped off on the next Microsoft, pal. If you want in you better get in before dessert. Hmmm, what are you having, anyway? I'm kinda hungry.

Announcer: The Blair Wise Project. Movie Money Magazine calls it the scariest movie since The Man Who Loved Penny Stocks.

Broker 1 (frantic): What's that sound? What's that sound! (breaks down) I'm so sorry. I'm lost. I'm scared. I'm hunted. I couldn't beat the S&P 500. I couldn't beat the monkey with the darts. I lied about that three-egg omelet. We're doomed!

Announcer: The Blair Wise Project. Now playing at a theater near you.

That's it? I mean, yes, that's it! Now if I could only find my way out of this Halloween special. Heather? Are you there? Didn't I come in here with a map? There used to be a trail here before the trailer. I'd be done, the camera would shut off, and we would all return to a world of marshmallow pies and pulp-heavy lemonade. But I've messed up this time. I've brought you all here, deep into this feature, and I'm afraid we're lost.

Since I have nothing to lose out here, and I've pecked out all of the raisins from my trail mix, am I allowed to ramble? Look, I'm sorry that you're going to miss your costume party tonight. I too had plans. I had checked off all of the traditionally chocolate-giving houses down my block. I had my Pikachu outfit dry-cleaned for the occasion.

I don't like it here. To be honest, it's getting late and I'm not sure if I even believe the story about the three cold-callers. It's an old Wise tale. Besides, isn't the lot who peddle ignorance and dependence destined to wither anyway? Why chronicle three of the many?

So, there's my motivation. There's my inspiration tonight. In the face of spiraling peril, I will rise above it. Nothing can stop me. Well, nothing except the reality that we're really, really lost now. I've got no bread crumbs to follow. Shhh. Do you hear those sounds? Heather? Paul? Anybody? What gives with these encircling voices? Is this the way out?

A house! In the woods! Oh shelter. Oh home to yelps of anguish. Scrawled on the walls? Apologies from the Wise. Poor misguided souls. Still, this doesn't feel right. This dilapidated house feels hollow. Screams are coming from the basement. Let's go check it out. Down the darkened steps, the misery grows louder. What do we see?

Three brokers, hanging their heads in shame, facing the wall in penance. Pity. They never saw it coming like I di--

<end of transmission>

Next Scary Story -- Trolling for Dollars

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