When The Butterflies Come

by Rosemary Ness Bitner

  “What are you saying?”

  “Be aware of these things. In every country there are sociopaths. Power is an aphrodisiac for them, and they will murder to gain and hang on to their power. Seeing their deeds for what they are gives you some sense of when the country will fall into the hands of another Hitler.”

  “There will never be another Hitler.”

  “Oh yes, there will be. The next Hitler will be billions of deaths worse than Hitler, because the next one will have the nuclear weapons he or she needs to kill by the hundreds of millions of people, probably billions.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’m deadly serious. All it takes is one sociopath to piss off another sociopath. Then bam! One guy nukes the other, but wait! They have a friend who has nukes and the friend shoots off a few nukes at the first guy. Then he blasts those bastards back. Soon nukes are flying everywhere and ninety percent of the world population gets fried. Maybe the USA comes through it all with only two or three cities getting nuked, and we’d be kings of the rest of the world because we have anti-nuke missiles and iron shields and lasers, but that’s not why we might survive. Our American babes are so good-looking with such hot pussies that no enemy, not even terrorists, want to hurt them.

  “Avoid participating in government. You’ll be bombarded with phone calls and surveys. You’ll never get any work done, plus you’ll spend half your working hours reporting for jury duty. You’ll never have time for your own business.

  “If you ever go into government, make sure you have a private e-mail service, like in Switzerland or Luxembourg, or maybe the Cayman Islands, or have your own server in the basement of your house like top government people who are above the law have here in the United States. That way, the government and the regulatory agencies can’t see what’s going on. That way, like the criminal people we have in the American in government who commit treason by selling the country’s interests for money, you too can delete things that you did which are illegal and should put you in jail and the government can’t get to you. You can lose your e-mails, lie under oath, commit crimes, bribe regulators, and make illegal payments to people all over the world or have them make payments to you. You can sabotage your corporate opponents and commit whatever crimes you feel like committing.

  “It’s a terrific concept! It’s also a good idea to know some mafia guys so you can kill people who know too much about what you’re doing. It’s better and cheaper than paying lawyers to defend you. Just destroy evidence and kill people who know too much. You leave no trail to follow. You can live on top of the dung pile you made and get propped up by people you bribe in the mainstream media to create the phony image that you’re a good-natured person.”

  Regulators

  “A regulator’s job is to put you in jail or out of business for no reason whatsoever. They will find any excuse or customer complaint to sit on your business and waste your time, no matter how honest or innocent you are. If you have industry clout like Bernie Madoff, regulators leave you alone even if they have a detailed case dropped in their laps. Regulators are politically sensitive, but they don’t know the ins and outs of the industry and they have trouble relating methods of fraud to market developments. They are cozy with big firms they want to get jobs with. They permit these big firms to conceal their litigation histories and criminal wrongdoings from their clients while they screw little firms to the wall to build up their résumés. If you find one that treats you fairly, kiss their ass.

  “When they come to the office, be courteous and offer them a glass of water. Do not try to bribe them, especially if there are two of them. If one of them hints that they want a bribe to leave you alone, make sure they’re alone. Feel them out and get them to make a demand for money. They could be wearing a wire, so you never make an offer to bribe them first. Sit them down in an office with no access to your computer systems.

  “The best way to get the regulator to leave you alone is to tell them to be careful not to touch anything. Tell them there is a mysterious virus in the office and people who have come there from the outside world have gotten ill and died. Tell them you’re getting some infectious disease specialists from Russia to fly over in a few days because no Americans can figure it out and the last scientist who came dropped dead in fifty minutes. Then fall down on the floor and roll around a little, hold your head and stomach alternately, and spit up on the floor. Tell them that’s the initial sign of it, that it hasn’t progressed any further with anyone on the staff yet, but outsiders get those same symptoms and die in about an hour. Get up and walk toward the regulator with your tongue hanging out. Hold out your arms and ask them to catch you and get you to a chair. If they haven’t left by then, scream and hold your throat. Tell them it’s getting worse. Tell them they need to run for their life. That should do it.

  “Some women regulators use their position for husband shopping. Like all women, they are fuck-happy, but these women like fucking the men they regulate. Some carry whips and chains in their briefcases. If one asks you to discuss things after hours or over lunch, she’s looking for it. You have a big decision. If you fuck her and she doesn’t think you liked her, or if you did a poor job on her, she can make life hell for you. If she likes it, she can make life hell for you as well because she’ll want to marry you and have kids. She’ll keep coming around to regulate and fuck you to death until you give in and marry her. If you don’t give in, she’ll throw you in the slammer.

  “The way out of that situation is to get sick and stay sick until she goes away. Have Mrs. Rodriguez or Barbara take down her questions for you and have a lawyer with them until the regulator goes away. The other possibility when all else fails and she really insists on talking with you is to have an auto accident. Just drive your car head-on into a truck. Do this in the city so you’re not going so fast you kill yourself, but break your nose and an arm or a leg, like a combined speed crash of about twenty-five to thirty miles per hour. Then you can get some sympathy from her while telling her that you can’t remember anything. You can even drop your licenses for up to two years until she shakes off. Apply to get your licenses back again after she finds some guy and gets herself married. Be prepared to pass out on the floor whenever you are asked a question you don’t want to answer.”

  David withheld from Bob an incident where he tangled with a female regulator. For reason known only to her, she decided to camp out at the UGGA offices and nitpick every detail of the firm’s activities. All transaction blotter books were pulled for her inspection to correlate sales with commission payments to dealers. All regulatory manuals were scrutinized for procedural violations. All investment board meeting minutes were examined. She even called Fund board members to confirm their understandings of the meetings.

  David had asked her, “Can you give me some idea when you’ll be finished? And, must you sit here in our public lobby when we have a conference room set aside for you?”

  “When I finish, and not before! Do not rush me and do not interrupt me again. Until then, make yourself useful and fetch me a glass of water. And, by the way, from what I can tell, you seem to be the only person here who has nothing to do. All you do is buy and sell the market average based upon that silly chart you keep in your little closet. Isn’t that right? And you charge fees for this nonsense? You have a lot of gall to run a sham like this, Mr. Sustack.”

  The woman had humiliated David right there in the lobby in front of the firm’s employees. It was clear she intended to camp out a while, and she was not going to be hurried. David was made to feel small and insignificant. His ego was bruised and he had flashbacks to the humiliations he suffered at the hands of his mother. Two days later, the woman’s car was broken into and gasoline was poured over the car’s interior and the car was set ablaze. Police came and investigated David and his whereabouts that day, but they found nothing and the crime was never solved. The next day the regulator closed her audit books on UGGA, produced a satisfactory report and left the premises. She ne
ver returned to UGGA again and subsequent regulatory audits were done in less than a day’s time, always with satisfactory comments. David had descended to new sociopathic lows where he was brazen and willing to defy authorities, push back against them when they challenged him, and commit crimes against those officials who got in his way.

  Charities

  “Charities are organizations created by women to drive you crazy. If you give money to one your name will go on lists and you’ll be hounded to death with phone calls and mailings. They’ll find out who your friends are. They’ll pressure your friends to take them as guests to dinner functions, where you’re supposed to be happy about eating a crappy meal and buying useless junk at silent auctions and raffles. Once your name is on a charity’s donor list, you’ll be on hundreds more like it. They sell your name to other charities because they’re all so hungry for money. Think about this. If all the government’s wonderful programs really worked we wouldn’t have the need for charities, would we? Charities are proof the government’s programs are phony bull shit.

  “It becomes impossible to get rid of charities. It’s like having a pit bull’s teeth clamped into your knee that you can’t shake him off. They aren’t run by smart people. If they were, they’d have all male charity nights and they’d hire some terrific hookers so the men would spend big bucks. Charities are run by women volunteers, so you won’t see many hookers at those functions. You’ll get a long-winded speaker or washed-up entertainer and a terrible meal. You’ll talk to idiots. You’ll go home swearing you’ll never go again so there’s no reason to go in the first place.

  “Charities aren’t about helping people anyway. They are opportunities for wives to dress up and flaunt their dresses and jewels at other women, and to have a chance to gossip about women who didn’t show up. Charity events are for women to go husband shopping or to find a stray guy and get laid. Married women look at these events like they’re going to a car dealer to upgrade their car.

  “Wussy husbands get dragged to charity functions. They are battleground arenas for women. They slip past you and rub against you or ask stupid questions like ‘Did you like the artwork they’re auctioning off’ or ‘Did you like the speaker?’ None of them ever ask about a company’s financials or about war or football or anything interesting like that. Notice while they talk to you they’re trolling their bait trying to get laid. They rationalize this behavior by telling themselves they’ll sacrifice their bodies for charity.

  “Poor people that these charities are supposed to help get crumbs and drippings from these events. Some entertainer from out of town gets five or ten times more revenue than poor people get. If you want to help somebody work from the heart, then help somebody directly. There’s a rub to that. People will pretend to need help when they just don’t want to work. The world will always have poor disadvantaged people. If you give them money, you’ll breed more of them.

  “Poor people breed like rats. They do that so that they’ll get more votes so they can screw you out of your money by taxing the shit out of you. A good philosophy is the one Scrooge had before he saw the ghosts of his past in the Christmas Carol’ by Dickens. You feel good when you give to charity, but you do not solve the problems of the poor. There will be more of them tomorrow. It is an unfortunate reality. If Jesus couldn’t eradicate poverty, you won’t succeed either. You’re better off spending money on hookers. You get something great in return, unless it’s syphilis.”

  Doctors

  “Avoid doctors unless you’re near death and need a painkiller. Most of them are quacks trying to make a buck. The few who know what they’re doing work for private billionaires, or they already retired. The rest are just trying to survive the government’s paperwork jungle and get out of their practices as soon as they can without getting sued out of business. If the doctor works for a Health Maintenance Organization, he’s just a data entry clerk and you’re a data file. They only want to keep you alive long enough to maximize the Medicare reimbursements they get for carving into you when you’re near death. They look at you as a future corpse on a conveyor belt to their cash register. After they squeeze all the insurance money out of you, you’re sent to hospice and then the morgue.

  “The days when you could get the doc to come to your house, take your temperature, stick a needle in your ass and give you a shot of penicillin for five bucks are long gone. Witch doctors, faith healers, and marijuana smoking are just as good as a doctor if you’re sick. If nothing is working, drink lots of whiskey. If you want to be sure a doctor is prescribing the right medicine and drugs for you, get the prescription, take it back to the doctor, and make him take it first. That’s the only way you can be sure the guy is trying to help you and not trying to kill you. If everybody did that, doctors would think twice about pumping everybody full of pills.

  “You can’t get out of this world alive, but you can make the exit as painless as possible. If you’re looking at a big co-payment for an end-of-life procedure and you think you’ll leave your heirs penniless by going through with it, and especially if your doctors start saying things like you have better than fifty-percent odds, you’re better off just drinking whiskey until you die from the drinking. Remember these insights when you’re at life’s checkout counter.”

  Babies

  “Babies make me want to throw up. They shit, cry, puke and slobber without caring where the mess that comes out of them lands. You can get their messes on yourself if you’re not careful. Lots of times a woman will show you her baby, because she’s really proud that something actually came out of her pussy instead of a prick. Her mother and her preacher told her that she was supposed to have babies. She feels like she’s a legitimate person because she reproduced herself instead of just screwing her brains out for the joy of it. She wants you to adore her baby, but your correct move is to get away from that dangerous little thing before it goes off on you and ruins your clothes.

  “You can be discreet. Tell the mother that you’d love to pick the kid up and have it shit all over you, scream in your ear, or throw up on you, but you can’t because you have a highly contagious disease that will probably kill her baby if it gets within ten feet of you. She’ll grab the kid and run from you as fast as she can. Another tactic is to tell her you have bad luck with babies. Tell her you held one once and it sneezed on you. That got you so discombobulated you forgot what you were doing and you dropped the baby, and then it kept crying for hours afterwards. That tactic usually works, especially if you’ve already used the first one about being contagious.”

  Lawyers

  “All I’m going to tell you about lawyers is that you can’t trust them, not even the ones on your own payroll. They are all about racking up fees. If there’s five ways to strategize a case for a defense or an offense, they will figure out the course of action that is most likely to take the longest and rack up the most fees. When you’re in litigation, notice how the lawyers from the opposing sides like to talk with each other after a hearing or deposition. They’ll tell their respective clients that they’re trying to agree on the timetable for the next step in the case or some such bullshit. What they’re really doing is trying to decide what they can do to get the most juice out of the plaintiff and the defendant for themselves. They’re officially sanctioned to rob you blind. They’ll talk about football or their favorite whorehouses, or the outlook for weather, or swap jokes, but they’ll charge you for their time on the phone. They have no empathy for the people they represent, none. If they try to tell you otherwise, they’re bullshitting you.

  “Lawyers are the worst cocksuckers on the planet. They deal in shit fights between people who didn’t have enough sense to talk things over in the first place, but since some people are idiots who want to fight, lawyers make a fortune on them. You can tell how fucked up a country is by the number of lawyers it has per thousand people in the population. America is the world’s most fucked-up country because about one person in every three is a lawyer. America is a country where no
body makes anything and people go around suing each other because they have nothing better to do with themselves.

  “Be alert for lawyers’ dirty tricks. Sooner or later somebody is going to sue you. Lawyers will talk to each other about the case for hour after hour and resolve nothing. Neither side will recommend you settle because that ends their billable hours. They enjoy watching both parties suffer and they keep things stirred up as much and as long as possible. If you are defending, your lawyer will push a template button on a computer and the computer will spit out a hundred defenses. This stuff is all prepackaged, like instant cereal, but your lawyer thinks you’re stupid. He thinks you’ll believe he went to hours or days of effort to look up all these cases on point and that he’s some kind of genius, but in reality he just pushed a button. So he bills you for twenty hours at seven hundred dollars per hour, or fourteen thousand dollars for two minutes’ work. That’s not the worst of it. His paralegal is the one who actually pushes the button while he’s out playing golf and hustling new clients, or he’s working on another case while he’s billing you for his helper to push a button.

  “If you’re the plaintiff, or the one suing, your lawyer will make as many false representations as possible to try to exasperate the defendant and bleed him to death so he’ll settle and your lawyer will get a contingency piece of the action. That leaves you open to counterclaims when discovery of evidence takes place, which is what the lawyers want—more bullshit, more hours, more misery for their clients and more fees.