Goldman Sachs! The Musical

Fragments from Goldman Sachs! The Musical Posted by Ben Greenman The hedge-fund manager JOHN PAULSON is in his mountain hideaway, stirring something in a CAULDRON. At his side is a VULTURE.

JOHN PAULSON: Here is a derivative Complicated, full of math Here we have bad mortgages Guaranteed to take a bath

By “take a bath” I mean to say That they will almost surely fail And we will bet against them then Who cares if there’s a paper trail?

Do you see my strategy? It has a pleasing shape, I think A way that we can profit when The market is pushed to the brink

But to commit these heinous acts I’ll need a partner.

A foul bubble issues forth from the CAULDRON; when it pops, it speaks.

CAULDRON BUBBLE: Goldman Sachs?

JOHN PAULSON: Perfect. Brilliant. Exactly right. Go to them, Vulture. Go! Take flight!

The VULTURE doesn’t move.

JOHN PAULSON: I gave the order. I said the word. I meant what I said Now go, great bird!

The VULTURE still doesn’t move

JOHN PAULSON: When I say leave, it’s not idle chatter. Why are you here? What is the matter?

The VULTURE sighs.

VULTURE: I feast on Decaying meat But this seems like A worse deceit If you know that This thing will tank How can you take Cash from the bank Without a sense of Crippling guilt? This whole thing, John, Is falsely built It isn’t like I’m faint of heart I eat creatures when they’re dead Still and all, this scheme of yours Rests uneasy on my head

JOHN PAULSON: Well, you are oversimplifying I think it’s time that you were flying Off to Wall Street. Be on your way. I’ll see you down there later today.

JOHN PAULSON strikes the VULTURE with the stick he uses to stir the CAULDRON. The VULTURE flies off.

JOHN PAULSON: I’m in high finance I’m not a librarian I hope that stupid bird brings back Some capitalist carrion

New York. The Goldman Sachs boardroom. The firm’s C.E.O. and chairman, LLOYD BLANKFEIN, is addressing company officers.

LLOYD BLANKFEIN: Gentlemen, I called you here today To say we’re losing money The housing market’s crumbling quickly We’re going with it; it’s not funny

The VULTURE flies in.

VULTURE: John Paulson sends his love to you He also has a proposition About how you can make big bucks Off the market’s demolition

LLOYD BLANKFEIN: My name is real Even though It sounds like something out of Dickens And when I hear About big deals My eyes go wide and my pulse quickens

The VULTURE explains the scheme. LLOYD BLANKFEIN nods, smiles, and nods again. One OLD MAN rises to protest.

OLD MAN: Way back in 1928 We set up a closed-end fund It worked just like a Ponzi scheme Our investors were all stunned

For many years it hurt our name And scuttled our good reputation We shifted to investment banking And that proved to be our salvation

Learn, then, from our checkered past Remember the first Goldman, Marcus Death showed him the door in 1904 But I can hear his spinning carcass

LLOYD BLANKFEIN: Enough with the history lesson, Professor It’s time to go out there and fleece the investor!

Goldman Sachs puts the plan into motion. When the housing crisis hits and people start to lose their homes, JOHN PAULSON earns a tremendous profit.

JOHN PAULSON: I started out with thirteen billion When things went down, my worth went up In eighteen months I tripled that The falling tide, it filled my cup I made so much I couldn’t count Ten million every single day I’ve outearned Oprah, Trump, and Tiger And nobody suspects foul play

At Goldman Sachs, the FABRICE TOURRE is minding his own business, wasting company time by writing flirtatious e-mails to his girlfriend MARTINE SERRE.

FABRICE TOURRE: Other men are dull and drab But I am the fabulous Fab I’m a freakin’ cash machine How you like me now, Martine?

MARTINE does not answer. FABRICE TOURRE sends another e-mail.

FABRICE TOURRE: Dear Martine I’m really keen On our most recent creation

A Frankenstein Of dollar signs And intellectual masturbation

MARTINE does not answer. FABRICE TOURRE sends another e-mail.

FABRICE TOURRE: When poor homeowners Get the axe We load gold Into our sacks We sell off short And break their neck Uh oh, look out Here comes the Sec

MARTINE finally answers.

MARTINE: I think it’s pronounced “S-E-C” Your brain is smaller than a pea

The S.E.C. considers charging Goldman with fraud.

S.E.C.: Should we let Goldman respond Or should we name them in a suit Should a weed be sprayed in the garden Or ripped from the ground at the root?

The SEC decides to file suit. FABRICE TOURRE is named as one of the principal architects of the deceit. FABRICE TOURRE appears before Congress, where he is questioned by a Senate panel that includes CARL LEVIN (D-MICH).

CARL LEVIN (D-MICH): I want to know what you knew And exactly when you knew it And why you all believed You’d manage to get through it

FABRICE TOURRE: We didn’t prey on our clients’ stupidity We showed them our prices and offered liquidity

CARL LEVIN (D-MICH): To you it may have been a game To me it all seems pretty real I mean to make you feel shame For how you made this shitty deal

FABRICE TOURRE: I’m not deceitful or conniving Did you see the picture of me skydiving?

CARL LEVIN (D-MICH) questions LLOYD BLANKFEIN.

CARL LEVIN (D-MICH): How can you peddle a product And then bet that it will go south? Isn’t that like selling toothpaste That creates cavities in your mouth?

LLOYD BLANKFEIN: At the risk of appearing pedagogic Markets, you see, have an internal logic There are always cycles of boom and of bust

CARL LEVIN (D-MICH): But isn’t this simply a matter of trust? People think you are a fiduciary

LLOYD BLANKFEIN shrugs.

LLOYD BLANKFEIN: They also think that there is a Tooth Fairy.

The Senate hearings continue. Meanwhile, JOHN PAULSON reassures his investors that he has done nothing wrong.

JOHN PAULSON: All I did was see things clearly. Housing prices were severely Overvalued; I generated Profit from what was inflated. And though my insights were aberrant I was open and transparent

JOHN PAULSON’s worth is estimated at twelve billion dollars. He is walking to the bank to use the A.T.M.—not to withdraw any money, just to check his balance—when he sees his VULTURE perched on the ledge of a building.

JOHN PAULSON: Vulture, hello How goes it, old friend?

VULTURE: Oh John, you are surely A horse’s rear end

JOHN PAULSON: What? I’m shocked. I’m scandalized Among my pets You were most prized Come back to work In my mountain lair I’m taking the jet I’ll meet you there

The VULTURE stands still.

JOHN PAULSON: This again? Come on, birdbrain Are you stupid Or just insane?

The VULTURE stands still.

JOHN PAULSON: I’ll say it once more But I’m losing my cool Go back to the mountain You insolent fool

VULTURE: You know what, John? I have a hunch I’ll see you soon So let’s have lunch

The VULTURE takes off and circles JOHN PAULSON, beating his wings so violently that the A.T.M. receipt flies out of JOHN PAULSON’s hand and spins in a vortex in the street.

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