Patient Blue

Jesus Socrates, the new CEO, looked a bit like a dodgy ex footballer. His teeth were too white, almost dazzling and with the light bouncing off his oiled slicked back hair he was a man always destined to shine.

Jesus, pronounced Hey-zeus, was of Portuguese origins and didn’t really understand the Anglo Saxon mentality, in fact he considered the English to be a bunch of pasty faced, fat, lazy bastards who spent most of their lives drunk, and that was just the women. Though on the plus side they were cheap to employ, easy to shag, worked long hours and could be easily fired.

Hey-zeus, considered he was the special one, he, and not that embarrassing, odious loud mouth Jose Mourinho. This cold grey island had been his and his alone for the last few years as he crushed all opposition and ruthlessly worked his way to the top. Finally triumphant, with big plans and a bank worth billions, Real Money, to finance his lifestyle and grandiose ambitions, he had been tragically thwarted by something called a fucking Wang Pulse, which had screwed the internet and therefore the majority of his business and money making activities in the UK. Plus there was uncertainty over the whole Brexit thing and of course, the pending compensation hearings over the Japanese five year growth bond fiasco. The pay outs for that could potentially run into billions, not to mention the reputational damage.

The decision had been made and rubber stamped by the board, they were pulling the plug on England and heading back to Spain, Cadiz to be precise, and the bank would be re-branded Banco Real Cadiz, and operate out of branches that were based on sunny boulevards, offering personal old fashioned banking with courtesy and high profit margins.

Once all the details had been finalized, Hey-zeus and his colleagues, Portuguese all, drank wine, definitely not Mateus Rose, and toasted the future, whilst HR staff got busy preparing letters of redundancy to be sent that very day. None of the British staff apart from Sally his PA and occasional Saturday night fuck buddy, would be offered redeployment to Spain.

The toast on this auspicious day was given by Jesus himself. ‘Gentlemen the toast is; fuck the Wang pulse, England and the English. Viva Espana.’ Viva Espania, came the enthusiastic response.