Eugenia’s Birthday Fete
Wellington Leg: On the day of hedge fund manager Eugenia Phaeton’s seven birthday all of Wellington Leg turned out for a parade down the Boulevard of Broken Seams in celebration. Among the gifts presented by towne officials: the Prince of Denmark Shopping Centre and the Goth Metroplex, filigreed municipal bonds, a condo at HRH J. Mansfield Prison, a signed copy of Voltaire’s Miasma and a quick spin in Hizzoner’s armored Lexus. “She wanted a Barbie doll,” said Mrs. Emma Phaeton of Smoldering Close. “She got a shopping center.”
Experts agree that some of the collateral offered Ms. Phaeton may be less than investment grade. Since the Roman occupation began the Prince of Denmark has suffered the slings and arrows aging structures must endure before being declared “historic.” Eugenia’s architectural committee has yet to declare the 1950s cinder block construction a mid-century classic.
City workers will not be paid until Eugenia signs off on the debt restructuring. Her Big Scary Things hedge fund unwound its yen position seconds before a plunge on the Tokyo exchange rattled traders. Work on the rhododendron bushes near the Rotunda was suspended during a wildcat strike.
In other news the Royal Navy denied bombarding the Leg. Some say her sailors will mutiny if forced to listen to the earl’s latest potboiler RIMBAUD’S HEADBAND. Out of an abundance of caution Wellington Leg’s own fleet was recalled to Ballard Harbor and lookouts posted on the fishladder. Due to official confusion the lookouts were permitted to attend Eugenia’s birthday fete as men on stilts.
Trading at the Live Hog Pit resumed after holding pens, damaged by the English onslaught, were put back together by Mrs. Ferguson’s fourth grade class. “Most of them want to be hedge fund managers,” she said. “Although little Gus wants to be a fireman.”
Floor specialists eyed the fourth graders with suspicion. “They’re all short,” said one. “Maybe I should be short too.” Frantic selling ensued. Tex Lex reporting.