FECKLESS REVEALS TRUE IDENTITY TO PRE-APPROVED IN LONDON WHILE BILKING INNOCENT, UNSUSPECTING BANKS OF TRILLIONS AND TRILLIONS MORE....

Now inside the cash room of the world famous bank inside The City of London, Pre-Approved asked Feckless the question he had always been too afraid to ask.

"Hey, Feckless, how did you get your name? As we sit here and pack this laundry bag with trillions and trillions more in stolen cash, deeds, bonds, derivatives and securities, I can't help wondering how you got your name?

"If you were actually feckless, it would imply you have no real effect on anything or anyone in your life," said Pre-Approved, stuffing cash firmly into the tattered bag.

"Yes, Pre-Approved. That's a clever question. Answer is this: I'm not a cat. This is a cat costume. So the name makes sense, but only if you know my true identity," said Feckless, sliding a new money bag toward Pre-Approved.

"What costume? Who am I with today?" said Pre-Approved, pausing from his theft to await Feckless' answer.

Feckless ripped fur right then and there. Now standing before Pre-Approved was the real Feckless, Pre-Approved's real partner for worldwide financial theft.

Pre-Approved stood in amazement, meowless.

"You're a dollar bill. Nothing but an old, U.S. dollar."

"That's right, Pre-Approved. American currency; a shoddy little slab of 21st Century debt. Does the name Feckless make sense to you now as we stand here in the great City of London amid the wreckage, riots and worldwide misery?"

"Yep," said Pre-Approved, going back to packing his pile of stolen currency. "Feckless is feckless and Feckless is he! Feckless for all! Long Live Feckless!"

-- April 2, 2009 lurene gisee 360-752-6581 --

FECKLESS AND PRE-APPROVED LICK LONDON BANKS BEFORE WORLD'S FINANCE AUTHORITIES

It was April 1, 2009, a big day for wealth in London.

Big day for feline thieves Feckless and Pre-Approved, too.

The streets of London went insane with G-20 protests. Anarchists, Anti-Capitalists. Proud upholders of fringe ideologies from everywhere in Europe, the United States and the developing world.

One guy, dressed as Easter Bunny, was stopped trying to enter a well-known bank.

"I've seen that costume before," said the security guard. "You're no bunny. You're a thug if I've ever seen one. Be off with ya!!"

"Bunny" walked off with his head down, ashamed of capitalism.

Feckless and Pre-Approved walked toward the bank next.

"I've seen that costume before," said the guard. "You two aren't cats. You're thugs. Be off with ya!!"

"Sir, we are cats. Real cats. If you don't believe us, give us a security pat."

Feckless and Pre-Approved stood up on their hind paws, their front paws raised, for the police search; a rare gesture of surrender and obedience for these cats. The guard ran his hand over Feckless and Pre-Approved.

"Oh, look at that. Just cats there. Go on ahead, then," said the fully-armed officer.

Feckless and Pre-Approved walked into the bank.

"Let's rip off that cash and split before the governments of the world get to it," said Pre-Approved.

"Yeah," said Feckless, trotting proudly. "At least with us ripping it off, investors will know what happened."


-- end --

DOG GETS BAY AREA BANK AS SHOCKED FAMILY WATCHES

Eaton the boy, 8, was sitting at home with his beloved dog, Anvil. School was out and so was the sun's shine.

Anvil leapt up to bark at the door.

Something seemed to be racing by.

"Is it a skateboarder, Anvil? Go catch it, boy! Good dog!" said Eaton, opening the screen door. Anvil rushed out the door to chase his target on the street.

Ten minutes passed. Anvil came back to the young, African-American Eaton in canine glee. He had a hefty wad of cash between his teeth. "Good boy, Anvil!" exclaimed Eaton. "Good boy!"

"Mom! Come in here! Anvil finally caught that bank running past us!"

-- end --
by lurene gisee march 23, 2009
www.blackholeeconomics.com

FECKLESS AND PRE-APPROVED ROB BANK OF THE NEXT GUY

The criminal cats, Feckless and Pre Approved, showed up the next day at Bank of the Next Guy. They knocked on the door. Manager opened, Bingo the Bank Officer, a shark.

Feckless the cat paused to look at the finned financier for a brief few seconds. A weird, new mix of fear and hunger hit him for a brief instant.

“And who am I speaking with today?” asked Bingo.

“I’m Feckless. This is Pre-Approved. We have good credit. We’re accepted around the world in every currency, even by brokers who pretend to exist, have phony jobs and dream up residential addresses…Oh, I’m sorry! How rude of me! I forgot to ask your name.”

“Bingo,” he said, pointing his right fin to the slimy chairs in the room. “Been with the bank for about two years.”

“We were wondering if we could catch…..uh, I mean….apply for a small loan today.”

“You realize we’ll need to see a history of transparent accounting associated with your name?”

“What do you mean by that?” said Feckless. “Transparent’s a tricky word.”

“Yeah,” said Pre-Approved, jumping on Bingo’s desk. “Cow snot's transparent. Doesn’t mean I'll use it for I.D.”

“Pre-Approved, let’s be careful about this," said Bingo soothingly. "Loans have to be repaid…...by someone…...eventually…...and...”

Feckless pulled a gun on Bingo. The shocked shark raised his fins in fear behind the S-shaped fluorescent office light he’d just had installed for $2,346,876.98 with just 2.34% of the janitor’s yearly bonus through a foreign contractor.

“What is this?” cried Bingo.

Pre-Approved let out a quick laugh at first – he didn’t know whether to rob Bingo or hire him -- but then got a sinister tone.

“I call it consumer confidence. Open that naively unlocked vault, Bingo,” said Feckless. “Pretty soon, you’re gonna see our faces on every form of currency in the world!”

-- end --
by lurene gisee, march 23 2009
(360) 752-6581

CUT AND PASTE CATS APPLY FOR CREDIT IN CALIFORNIA

Things were getting bad in the Golden State. Thieving cats Feckless and Pre-Approved sent their criminal associates, Cut and Paste Kitties, to get more stolen cash. It was so easy before.

Paste broke the news to Feckless and Pre-Approved with shame.

"I couldn't believe it. Bank teller asked us if we wanted to buy some more false I.D.," said the feline. "For a fee, could even get phony credit card thrown in by A.I.G."

"Yeah, I would've gone, but they said that's all I was good for in this state anymore," said Pre-Approved. "Bad credit."

March 19, 2009 lurene gisee
WWW.BLACKHOLEECONOMICS.COM
-- end --

FECKLESS AND PRE-APPROVED BILK FINANCIAL DISTRICT, WORLD'S MAJOR CURRENCY BROKERS

Now well into their financial scam, San Francisco’s thieving cats, Feckless and Pre-Approved, began to set routines, establish habits to fool others.

One evening, Feckless entered the ally as the Western sun set. Pre-Approved was there. The cat was quietly mumbling numbers to himself, his face directed toward the worn ground. His paws fiddling in shadows.

“What are you doing, Pre-Approved?” Feckless asked, tilting his head. “Scratching beat-up cardboard?”

“No, Feckless. Counting ripped-off currencies. It’s relaxing,” purred Pre-Approved. “What do you do?”

“Oh, me? Claw up other people’s 5-star stocks over at Transamerica, then sell them over in Chinatown. Cash sure rolling in,” said Feckless, lazily stretching his front legs.


-- end --

FECKLESS BAITS VICTIM FROM HIS CELL IN SAN FRANCISCO KITTY SHELTER

San Francisco Cat Shelter. Each cat has own cage with small advertisement. First ad reads:

Get me. I’m ready right now. I love you.

I am a good cat. I eat cheap fish sticks.

My owner even tossed me into SF Bay to catch fish one day. When I got to shore, I lost him. I still meow for him. So, here I am, waiting.

I don’t scratch.

I love kids, postal workers, and pipe repair guys.

I am happy in your filth-filled back yard, even if it’s raining.

Yes, I am the good cat you lost in 2004.

I still love you!

Adopt me today.

Shelter No. 563-812”

The next advertisement was a warning, but I only say this because I see the situation more clearly now.

I’m talking from my bed in the county hospital.

Oh, if we could only go back to the clean and lightly-scented innocence of last week!

The poster was tacked up next to a cage in the rear of the cat room. The lights did not shine on this cage. I still didn’t get the hint about this cat.

The occupant stood near the bars of it not like a regular resident of a homeless shelter for cats, but like the Authority for Animal Welfare for the entire state of California.

The text was brutal. Think of the needle that goes into the arm of the condemned in his last moments. I’ll never forget that language of pure evil:


They call me Feckless…
Get my food
NOW!
Shelter No. 999-666”

-- end --