Cash for the loveable chubbie

I am standing around in this financial mausoleum where the morticians wear frock coats, when I hear voices raised and a mahogany door slams open and out bursts this redhead, yelling: Any more of this expletive deleted from you and I'll take my overdraft elsewhere.

Now I can see why Bob Alexander asks me to look in here, apparently this is the home of the NatWest’s up market brandname, you might figure it offers taxidermy as a sideline but Bob says the clients find the atmosphere soothing, it lends money to royalty and gentry since time immemorial and sometimes gets repaid.

Bob is persuasive, he takes me aside at this banking reception to say farewell to Mr Sayonara or some such and asks if he can call in a favor, he has this kinda wayward client who is in need of financial advice and my name comes to mind.

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