The coronavirus has hit Chuck “Chip” Andlord particularly hard.
He once spent 14-hours a day as a master of the universe at his Wall Street trading desk. Now, because of the coronavirus, he’s been forced to sequester at his seven-bedroom Upper East Side townhouse. The twins are home from private school indefinitely and his wife no longer has her busy schedule of Neiman Marcus fittings and full body massage.
To make matters for the Andlord clan worse, Esmeralda [last name tk], their beloved housekeeper has chosen to take care of her sister in some teeming outer borough rather than sticking to her post like a patriotic member of our economy.
With a full house and no lacrosse practice for the teens, this past week has been a horror.
“It’s been this post-apocalyptic Hunger Games dystopian The Shining sort of thing,” Muffy Von Andlord says, looking incredibly relaxed despite the circumstances. She credits the daily visits from her personal Reiki therapist Boris in the mansion’s subterranean spa for her glowing skin and cool demeanor.
But the rest of the family has been starting to show signs of stress in their cramped four-story abode.
The one bright spot has been their nightly meals. Always the creative thinker, Chip has begun ordering online from a wide variety of neighborhood establishments ranging from the Ritz Carlton Grill Room to the Sherry-Netherland Dining Room.
And that’s when an incredible insight hit our suffering investment banker.
Chip noticed that his food delivery workers were risking their lives to keep his family fed. They arrived drenched in sweat, their eyes forlorn and bodies exhausted. “What a thankless, horrible job!” he told himself after the packages had been safely dropped outside his foyer’s wrought iron gates and the heavily laden cyclists had retreated beyond his property line.
Chip’s great inspiration was to monetize the obvious end-of-life scenarios that were coming for the working class. In move that would have made T. Boone Pickens proud, he seized on the idea of taking out life insurance policies on these workers, bundling them as securities and then selling them to his select high net worth clients!
Taking this another step further, Chip then took out large, federally-insured loans on these securities so that he could reinvest and grow the market. He was able to identify growth sectors by looking at places where conservative governments (both domestically and internationally) aren’t taking the virus seriously enough, guaranteeing him robust mortality rates and a red hot sector for his funds to invest.
The idea quickly caught on and now the investment banking community is celebrating Chuck Andlord as a lifesaver for the industry. “It’s like 2007 all over again!” one trader gushed.
Asked about the possible end of the virus, Chip revealed how he had hedged his bets. “My firm is actually issuing our own insurance policies for the securities so that if a cheap vaccine comes out tomorrow, God forbid, investors are protected by some very generous guarantees from the Federal Reserve!”