In Act I, tragedy strikes Wall Street: Bears (Stearns) and Bulls (RIP Merrill) stampede, trampling the avaricious underpaw and underhoof. Panic, destruction, and Ralph Nader talking to a parrot ensue. The government forces battle gamely, watch one more victim (Lehman) fall, but rescue a punctured, gravely injured ally (AIG). Mad King George dispatches his Chancellor to Congress to plead for more troops. 700 billion more troops.
Continue, dear reader, for the denouement awaits in Acts II and III...
Act II opens with fevered negotiations, as economic thunderheads loom over Wall Street, even threatening inclement weather in East and West Main Street. Infestations of lobbyists spilling from the Washington sewers add to the foreboding and sense of impending doom. But Congress works through the night, laboring sweatily in the eternal dance of legislative thrust and parry. Dawn breaks, the barely errect members emerge to announce that they're almost there, just a bit more... [This summary has gone badly off its genre. Sorry, no more of that!]
But wait, it's a white(-haired) knight, Sir John McHero! With victory at hand, he rides into town to snatch victory, which, sadly, is in other hands.
Act III opens with a strange aside. A jester, in glasses and sporting a beehive do, turns sense into nonsense, and questions into sharp fishing implements. [Spears? Harpoons? Gaffs? Yes, that's it - gaffs!] Back in Washington, mad King George and his minders host a party for the press. All the candidates and Congresspeople realize that this is the event to be seen at: the agreement to save our collective assets is to be signed! But wait, trouble! The House gooper rebels and girds for civil war. Night falls....
The final scene starts the very next morning. A distant crash on Wall Street is heard (WaMu). Panic, suspense -- committees, sub-committees, and subtrahends roil, media flashes (not you Bill O!, and not that kind of flashing, you kinky bastard!)... And then St. John McHero steps to the podium and announces that he throws his support behind the White House and Democrats' plan! The House gooper collapses in a heap with St. McHero's shiv visible between its shoulderblades. "Why? Because I'm a maverick! Country first.", proclaims St. McHero. Pens spew signatures, media emanate, and assets sigh with relief.
A triumphant McHero lets an aid dial the phone (damned new-fangled gizmos) and participates in the Great Debate by teleconference, with the glistening dome of the Capitol in the background promising a new, better day in America.
Coda: McHero mishears the first question in the debate, and before anyone can stop him, lays out a clear, compelling case for a naval blockade of Mongolia. Things go downhill for him from there.