Oh what the hell I'll just post it
Mike--your Robert Service reference inspired me last night:
The desert heat can melt the diamond off a rattler's skin
The desert wind can follow a wolf and strangle it in its den
I've seen the shine of desert gold, but never seen a gem
Until the day the shorts got shaken out by IPM.
The company was started by Canucks from far away
But AZDOM called them liars when the sand would not assay.
They tried to teach them of the gold but words would not persuade
And IPM was exiled from the place its shares would trade.
Undaunted IPM set out to prove the AZDOM wrong.
With Constantine and Doyle, Shaw, Dodge and Le Furlong
Through dreary nights, 'til bleary dawns, their voices sang (in key!):
"We need to find a way to get to .25 OPT!"
And then, eureka, IPM unlocked the gold it sought
And people flocked to buy its stock without a second thought
But evil traders saw a road to wealth so often trod
And whispered rather loudly "We think IPM's a fraud!"
Some people left, but most remained, unmoved by libelous talk.
And institutions joined them, grabbing block by mighty block.
The shorts began to worry as their plan did not unfold,
And market makers questioned all the lies that they'd been told.
The rumours flew! The presses ran! The forces of the shorts
Combined to drive the stock price down, aided by co-horts
Bloomberg, Steffy, Forbes, Key West, the list went on and on
Even lowly walter was a thing relied upon.
But IPM was ready, and it had its staff prepare
Reports from its consultants who were led by Behre Dolbear
One crisp day in autumn, a PR was released
That let the shorts know how it felt to be the one who's fleeced.
The shorts were in a panic when they saw the numbers there!
In vain they tried to cover for the shares just were not there!
The price gapped up and up and up, and gapped up further still
Then IPM prepared itself for what would be the kill.
See, PR one set out to prove that were not just fakers
But PR two contained a grid that covered many acres.
A thousand assays later IPM could proudly say,
"With a hundred million ounces we have resource status today!"
The shorts collapsed in Chapter 7. The markets all fell quiet.
But faintly in the desert wind I heard a cyber-riot.
I heard the longs all posting in a transmutated way
Four letters shorts have come to hate: TTM and A.
The moon hangs low tonight, a distant orb that's seen it all
The crucifixion, ZIDDI, ebola and posts from thall
Although it's witnessed untold wealth, the moon has not been jealous
Until a trip made to it by a visitor named Alice.
(OK I know that last verse was lame)
Anyway--
The desert sun can melt the diamond off a rattler's skin
The desert sand can blow and trap a deadly scorpion
I've felt the lure of desert gold, but I have never been
As happy as the day I saw the shorts get IPM-ed.
Regards, Otter
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