In the protracted era of the squabbles, the mamasutras kept handing the rhipidistians their sandwiches wrapped in a map.
When the usual cycles of torture and maiming petered out, leaving the pulped factions scratching their heads, they stooped to collusion for want of ideas. A powwow held in a toney spa known as Mar-a-Gogo produced the “Better Monday Agreement.”
The historic compromise put paid to the chronic spats. It gave the rhips perennial dibs on the executive office of the precedency. A posse comprised of mamasutras would pass for a law-making body.
Cat out of the bag? Irrational exuberance in high-net-worth circles! The bicameral finagle caused assets to migrate into secret DuchyBank accounts like swallows to Capistrano. Until it didn’t. Eventually, something happened.
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