I GRANT THEE SEVENTY THREE POINT FORTY NASDAQS

The whole bear game just got tossed on its head. Their knight in burlap’d armor just played himself on national television, decrying the lack of necessity to pursue the Valeant story, pointing to the main stream media as a place to follow up on this ridiculous story. I hope Bill Ackman eats their lemons (no homo).

Stocks surged, despite a weaker commodity landscape.

Restaurant stocks took off, despite CMG attempting to murder people with their beef burritos.

This is what risk looks like. You may want it to look differently, appear out from nowhere like a flasher in a trench coat. But this is how it happens, deliberately, in your face, steam rolling until the last bear standing sits the fuck down.

I am not much for bragging these days. I’ve been a very humble Fly, walking about the internet alleyways alone, with just my pipe and my handy cro-bar. But I sense a shift coming, something foretold to you by the Option Addict several weeks ago.

We are going to flay all of the bears and then bury their bodies neck deep, near the beach, and leave them there for the high tide to sort out.