The Greedy Widow and Hero

The Greedy Widow and Hero

Is greedy the right word to describe the infamous Widow West? The starting point of all greed is hunger; the question you end up having to ask yourself is “how hungry are you?” At what point do your scales tip over the bleeding edge and go from need to want? Once you desire more because “more” is better than what you need, then you are entering into the endless wastelands, the true realms of greed.

How do stories of infamous greed get thrown about? Does one open ones mouth a little too wide and sticks ones foot all the way down it? That’s how the Greedy Widow got started. Lindberg could not keep it to himself. He was so “popping” at the seams in his “casual suit” that he couldn’t just ask for the telephone number and leave it at that. No he couldn’t but that is the basic problem with the “hero complex” type of person. The type of person that let their general “lack of self control” affect their professionalism. You might expect a brief, but diffuse explanation, as to why you wanted a mobile cell-phone number, but any detail in the case would be out of the question, unless like Lindberg you can’t help yourself. People with a “hero complex” are so cognitively programmed that they express their own “personal world image” just like some obsessive compulsives wash their hands twenty times and hour.

They aren’t evil or wicked people, Hero complex types, most of the time they even think they mean well. Yet they fall, time and time again, face first into the same jar of sticky honey that ends up being a filthy mess where their mouth used to be. Had it not been for Lindberg maybe the Widow West would have been left in peace. Rather than followed and hassled by the cheaper end of the “news / entertainment” industry. In the end, even the law became involved, due to the pressure from the media and the good people of Myview, Arizona.

Mr. Maier West, or Major West as his friends called him, made money like a teenager with badly cleansed skin makes spots. Money was just part nature for the Major. He was a businessman that had a sixth sense for wheels and deals. Why he got called Major was a mystery, unless his first name Maier just sounded like Major to the locals in Myview, Arizona. But Major West was a true captain of business and many of the towns leading figures looked to him for advice and financial support. The Major was always pleased to be of help because quite often he could get in at the bottom floor of every deal that was going up and up on this side of the River.

It came as shock for everyone, but the Major sat looking for a while at the rollo-card disk on the doctor’s table. He never thought those things would work, to much fuss, but too many cards were being thrown around today to keep them in a wallet. Cancer Mr. West is not always curable, even today with the advances in medication and treatment that have been made. “Oh,” said the Major, “so this Cancer I’ve got then is one of those is it? Can’t do anything about type of Cancer?”

“Yes Mr. West, this is one of those types “that we can’t do anything about.”

Arrangements were made with the finest hospital in the area; a team of private nurses was hand picked through selection process of specialist Caregivers to the extremely rich. Within three days the lower half of his town house had been converted in to a private hospital. The difference was it was still his house with all the easy convenience of a home. The financial requirements are enormous but with the insurance Mr. Major West had there were no economical limits on the amount spent on medical care. His life was to be run according to plan. The office was to be down sized and rescaled, and only a small number of the most important executives would have access to him. The rest of the business would be immediately looked over to see what can be sold before any rumors of problems hit the Wall, Bull or Dow Jones.

Before the week was done Mr. Maier West had managed to down size the corporation by 50%, recreating it into liquid capital that was moved into the offshore accounts. Whole companies had changed hands and only the central core to the corporation was left, all the holding companies remained. Real estate across the world was being put on markets, each done with such silence as not to disturb the other. By the following Monday morning (more or less a week after he had got the Cancer news) Major West had achieved the first of his goals, to turn 50% of the corporation into liquid cash, “make it 50% fluid” were his words a week ago. This lowered his overall income, but increased all his choices to a matter of moments. Moving cash from one offshore bank account to another is a deal done on the phone; selling huge block of shares is not. But the trust Major West held within the economic community was so strong that he was able to restructure the corporation before the hardened facts started to seep through the walls of his town house out into the world of commerce.

Nurse Dianna Hypoconidias had been a fully registered nurse for six years, She had worked in the best hospital in town and with perfect references began four years ago to work for a private agency that specializes in home palliative care. Her ability to communicate was exceptional and both patient and their families universally liked her. She was open, caring, empathic and always professional. The other six nurse’s and helpers that were employed full time soon began to follow Nurse Dianna’s shining example in most things. Her ability to communicate gave her the ability to lead. She always wore a white perfectly clean and pressed uniform that gave the impression of being a modern effective angel, wings would not have seemed out of place. Her hair was cut into a 50’s style bob with a little nurse’s hat to keep her brown hair in place. Her father had immigrated to Arizona from Greece, so her last name “Hypoconidias” was of Greek origin, (Hypo means horse in Greek; Conidias was something to do “walking with god”). Dianna was born and brought up in Myview, Arizona, as was her mother, who had been the 1968 Home Coming Queen. Nurse Dianna Hypoconidias was born 1974, making her 31 years old, although few people would guess her age correctly with her well-kept appearance. The uniform gave her a strict cut that was crisp but somehow soft.

When did it start to change? I don’t think it began until a few weeks into the first treatments. Mr. Major West had reacted very negatively to the chemotherapy, “cell poisoning” treatment. He had been relatively stable for a few days before the first set of chemotherapies, but afterward he was sick as a dog for days. He just threw up for four days more or less all the time; his conditioned became more and more unstable. Many new drugs were used to stabilize the feeling of sickness yet they had little or none affect whatsoever.

He knew that time was not on his side here. If he was going to be able to steer his Corporation, his life’s work into safe port of harbor, he saw he would need more time. This chemotherapy could have bought him that time, but feeling that sick would make anything impossible to run. A deal had to be struck, somewhere with someone, there always is a deal, you negotiated costs not services.

“So is it helping or not Dianna?”
“I’m sorry Mr. West it is impossible for me to say”
“Please Dianna call me Major you know me well enough. Can I buy the time?
“There’s maybe a way but it is not legal in this United State”

What they were talking about was a drug called the “Bleeding Edge” that had only been tested in certain sub cultures that used the substance for non-medicinal purposes. But given Mr. Major West’s particular medical situation, the “BE’s” could be, theoretically, mixed into the morphine pump without anyone knowing or becoming any the wiser. What would be required is someone who could enter the underground world of the Begoths and get close enough to fear of the macabre factory of doll creators. The factory will have much more for you in the future. Bleeding Edge gives you more wickedly lovely relief from convention and with the morphine relief from the anguish and pain, you are ready to go places. It is said that the bleeding Edge also has another property, that being one of giving a little more time. But with all the money in the world, in every tax free island paradise there is, all with their head offices in New York, London, Dubai and all the other holy places of cash worship, Mr. Maier West or even plain old Major couldn’t get into the Begoth subculture not for love nor for money. She could though, Dianna moved in that underground world in the night.

So what is the cost my dear, what is it you want from me, what have I to give to you? Buried below her calm cool exterior was a finely balanced scale weighing up the costs and risks. “50% of everything upfront “corporation wise” and that includes all offshore accounts, my accountants will have total access without any obstacles, they will see all. And then 100% of all life insurance, I would be soul beneficiary to every cent from them. That’s the cost Major. Do we have a deal?”

“Well my dear you have done yourself proud. A deal must be bold, as so must the chances we take on the deal. You have yourself a deal. You found the right price and right time to push for it. You will do well with all that money. We must marry to make it all legal this must be done immediately. Now to the BE, when can I take delivery of that Dianna? When do you make this service availably to me?

“Would now be a good time for you Major?”
“Now would be a fine time Dianna, a fine time in deed”.

How things change? Quite easily one slips in and out of personalities. This is what the Bleeding Edge does. It was development first in an attempt to ease pain of Cancer but gave few positive results during the testing. Certain patients experienced an unusual sensation of wanting to do things that they seemed ashamed of. When pressed further in testing many found these feeling to be overwhelming and rather unpleasant. They felt compelled to be free from social constraints, which they would normally willingly conform to. What was found out was that the mixture would work differently when mixed with pure morphine. This mixture had qualities that went way beyond the average party drug or designer drug. It became known as the Bleeding Edge, the drug of the true Gothic subculture. The perfect balance of choice and chance. The trip itself is just worth it. The problem is the morphine sold on the streets is far from being pure which makes the BE a rather dangerous mind alternating drug, you can fry you brain like chicken in fat if not careful. But once mixed with a pure and clean supply of morphine the BE becomes untraceable as it is chemically identical to drugs produced naturally in the brain, just lots more at the same time.

Mr. Major West had no doubts that this substance would buy him time enough to collect his wealth into easily managed units that could transform into any form or commodity. To pay the price he had paid may seem excessive but it is a question of good economics. People think in terms of costs contra what other things cost. They compare and try and make some sense out of relative comparison. My car cost this much money; I like it this much, so for the same amount of money that I spent on my car should bring me the same amount of happiness when I spend that kind of money on something else, like a swimming pool. This is non-sense. Major West knew that each deal is always a new deal. He had a very specific need and due to the time scale involved must be prepared to act accordingly. Which he did? He always knew when to get in on a new deal, and that is on the bottom floor, that is just before the deal goes all the way up to the top. He had gotten into the closed world of the Begoth subculture through the delightful Dianna and her shadow side. Mr. Maier “Major” West and Miss Dianna Hypoconidias became man and wife within the week, Mr. and Mrs. M West. He felt safe and secure.

And that just leaves us with Lindberg lagging behind. Arrh, the good Mr. Lindberg. Insurance man or insurance “expert” if one was having a particularly good day. Our own little town hero waiting to come charging to the rescue, through the ranks and files, giving voice to his own version of everything. All the legal document’s had been drawn up and made watertight through the skill and efficiency of the highest paid lawyers in the country, Mr. Major West lawyers. Mr. West was not a man who left a lot of things to chance, not when there were choices to be made. You can chose the law firm you wish to argue for you as long as you have the money to do it with. You are able to walk away from murder and child molestation despite being of Afro-American decent if you have enough cash. Now that’s freedom and democracy working properly, not some half arsed liberal version of law and order, but the real thing, the United State version.

Lindberg on the other hand had his own view like the rest of the good people of Myview, Arizona. He felt that leaving 100% of all Major West’s considerable life insurance to his newly wedded “Nurse come Wife” was somewhat excessive. Lindberg had no insight into any details beyond that fact that his colleague a fellow expert in the field of insurance had met with Mrs. Dianna Hypoconidias West the previous day.

After having gone through all the legal documents and notes of attorney needed to change the entire structure of the life insurance plan to simplest of plans, Mrs. Dianna Hypoconidias West, was content with the first part of the deal. The second part of the deal was dependent on the day dear Mr. Maier “Major” West died. Because on that day the corporation would pass into the hands of two sets of lawyers, one from the Western Corp and the other from Mrs. Dianna Hypoconidias West’s Foundation for development of Subculture. Each team would access the final figures and then divide it into two equal parts. One half going directly to the previous heirs and kin of Mr. Maier “Major” West and the other half to Mrs. Dianna Hypoconidias West herself, into offshore accounts.

It is not fair. It is not right. How am I to talk to Major West and verify this most unusual arrangement? Lindberg couldn’t keep his mouth shut so our blurted the now famous line that set the whole ball rolling off the bleeding edge, “she is a Greedy Widow that asks for everything” he then continued with his grand finale, “when there are others with rights and needs”. What Lindberg didn’t know or just couldn’t understand didn’t matter to him. Because it is only his own worldview, from his own personal perspective, that is possible in a world of order; otherwise the world would be chaos.

It was this aspect of other people’s chaos being part of his world that scared Lindberg the most. That it was possible for right things to go wrong, how does one creep and crawl from under that stone cap Mr. Lindberg. Apologies. Go ahead Mr. Lindberg and do your best to apologize for questioning things that you have no idea or comprehension of. You have “100% no idea” for sure of what you are talking about. It will be fun to hear you telling me that you are in the right in someway. Please Mr. Lindberg the stage is yours.

Now here’s an apology I got on my mobile phone
This one is for anyone’s collection of all time top apologies;

Sorry, I was wrong, it is Cancer.

So let the world know you’re a Goth simply on the Bleeding Edge

The End.