Black phantasy in P
by Stephen Edwards
What a pip is P.I.P., thought Peter Parsifal on Friday. Peter was head financial "rocket scientist" for
Smith, Wesson, Winchester and Colt, Inc. P.I.P. was the Portfolio Insurance Program that was Peter's
personal project. On Friday, as the market plunged 100 points, Peter's program printed out options sales
with punctilious precision. Assets of Smith, Wesson's clients were preserved. Peter's bosses patted Peter's
back and offered him a partnership.
"If it wasn't for your invention, it might have been Black Friday around here," they opined. Puffed with
pride, Peter rushed out and purchased a Porsche as a present for his own precious passion flower, Sylvia.
Peter had a good weekend, celebrating his success, driving the Porsche and basking in Sylvia's gratitude.
As a result, Peter was rather late to work on Monday. Mr. Colt didn't seem to mind.
"Boy, am I glad we have that computer online," said Mr. Colt, "The market's down 287 points already. I
don't know how we'd cope without your whiz-kid program."
"287 points?" Peter sputtered.