Bismarck Launders Money

It wasn’t long after Bismarck cleaned up with tuna futures that he learned how to hate the IRS. It’s easy, according to Ted Cruz and Donald Trump. All you have to do is claim that government is destroying society by hindering business and economic growth. No matter that Bismarck made his money speculating in artificial commodities, so long as that money counted as commerce and contributed to the total amount of money floating around.

It’s like the American human circulatory system, Bismarck explained. What you want to do is jam back it with as much stuff as much garbage as possible. So what if the arteries become occluded? That just makes the heart work harder. And people with fast-working hearts are nicer to their kitties. At least this was Bismarck’s theory. And he was sticking to it.

Some problems with ensuring the flow of money are inevitable, however. Invariably some of the tuna that Bismarck was betting on ended up spoiled. In order for Bismarck to be able to sell it, he began engaging in the black market. He would stand on a corner meowing “Get your tuna futures here, get your tuna futures.” Eventually his siren call would attract some stupid Siamese who, not knowing what the future is, would follow Bismarck’s instructions and electronically transfer all her human’s online money to Bismarck in the hopes of getting his paws on that good, sweet tuna. Next day the Siamese would go back to the same corner and find a note saying he would get his tuna next week. Flustered, he would the paper on which the note and count it as a lost.

Meanwhile, Bismarck searched for a way to get the stolen human electronic money past the frisky IRS. Actually washing the computer was no good he realized. He had seen what had happened when the human had accidentally washed his IPhone. And he was not interested in a bunch of soggy electrical wires.

It just so happens that Bismarck happened on a TV show about a man who sells blue drugs to people and as a result develops a whole bunch of familial problems. With cat-like perspicuity Bismarck remarked at the man’s quick fix to his money problems: buying a car wash. Therein lies the solution, Bismarck inferred, cleaning money involves cleaning things.

Bismarck considered opening his own car wash. But I hate cars. The frightening sounds they make when they turn on, the way they turn up and down the street. Plus it’s unnatural for humans to be faster than members of the cat family. God did not create bipeds so that they may outrace cheetahs.

A licking service was something else that Bismarck contemplated. I clean them up and they pay me cold hard cash. Everybody wins.

Except most humans didn’t see it that way. For some dumb reason beyond Bismarck’s comprehension they didn’t think that of a cat’s tongue as a loofah, which was there loss, as well as Bismarck’s.

At last, Bismarck happened upon his human washing clothes. Finally something I can wrap my head around, he thought. And so he did.