Merrill Lynch says that the National Australia Bank is a piece of trash because they're not revealing their sub-prime exposures. ("Never mind that we've lost many billion dollars giving out sub-prime loans, they're trash. Stay away from their stock.")

Fitch, meanwhile, announces that Merrill Lynch shares are rapidly turning meaningless, after they handed out cheap loans to companies who'll never be able to pay them back.

Merrill Lynch, in an attempt to garner some support in these troubled times, upgrades Wachovia. ("Never mind how doomed we are, we've all punished Wachovia enough. All the punishment is now reflected in their share price. Let's all stop hammering them now. Here, Wachovia, let me upgrade your rating.")

Wachovia will respond, Merrill Lynch is hoping perhaps, with a detailed note to the media on how sturdy Merrill Lynch is, and how its responsible management and robust practices will see it ride over these difficult times.

Everyone's rating each other. It's a game of tit-for-tat. You screw my rating, I screw your rating. Together we screw the market. The market screws the investor. The analyst makes money talking on Bloomberg TV. The market goes berserk. The investor commits suicide. Everything's right with the world.

It's like high school. The stock market is the Head Master. These banks are all unruly schoolboys complaining against each other.

Merrill Lynch: NAB, he's not telling me his secrets. He's hiding something, Sir. I think he's a bad guy, you should dismiss him at once.

Fitch: Sir, I'm telling you, Merrill Lynch has already caused his parents a lot of harm. He went to the casino last night and blew up a few billion dollars of his dad's hard-earned money. I don't know what he's doing complaining about others. He's the bad apple, Sir. I say throw him out.

Merrill Lynch: Sir, I think Wachovia's been punished enough. Look at his knuckles, they're bleeding from the beating you've given him for losing money at the same casino (where I was last night). I think you should let him go now, Sir. I think he's learnt his lesson.

Goldman Sachs: (strides in confidently) Sir, I have something to say to you in private. I am the one who has lost the least amount of money at the casino. I've been responsible with my parents' money. I am the nice guy. (whispers) Sir, Merrill needs a little shock, he's getting too big for his boots. I saw him at the casino the other day; that was the devil himself, Sir, I tell you. (some more whispering) Sir, that bully Citicorp, just look at his performance. He doesn't know what he's doing. My recommendation is that you chuck him out at once for a week, send him to rehab, he can barely count the zeroes on the amount he lost at the casino last night. Me? Heh, Sir, I'm the nice guy.

Head Master: Ok, Merrill, I've been hearing things...

Wachovia: (hastily interjects) Sir, stop! Please don't do this to Merrill. He's sobered down after the losses, can't you see. He's being more responsible and mature than ever before; last night we went out for a drink and he had just one cocktail. I'm telling you, Sir, Merrill is now...

Merrill: I think this Wachovia chap is a gem, Sir...

NAB: Oh shut up you! (speaking to Head Master) Mate, this Merrill chap has been driving everyone insane here, get him outta the school, mate.

Head Master: Umm uh, yeah! So Merrill, I was saying...

Citicorp: Sir, before you continue, I want to tell you that I might have lost many billions. But I'm still focusing on my customers sir. I'm giving them everything they want. Last week, my private banking practice handed out three hundred and twenty thousand super platinum cards to people who I think will never default on their credit cards.

Head Master: What?

Merrill: I was telling you about Citicorp, Sir. There he's gone and handed out dollar bills again.

Head Master: Huh, yeah! Hey Citi, what do you think is...

Analyst 1: Sir, I've been poring over Citi's performance numbers and I must tell you he's looking pink and healthy. Don't bother with those little black blots on his performance. We'll just all think they're beauty spots, noone will know. Of course, there's the disclaimer that I might benefit from Citi staying back in school.

Analyst 2: Sir, I think that Merrill will see some resistance at last Wednesday's levels before it plunges into the abyss of nothingness. There is no doubt in my mind, that as the supreme power that controls all our fates, your decision will have an almost inexpressible impact on where Merrill goes from here. Sir might decide to chuck Merrill out, but I'd say that there is a certain likelihood that he might not. There are a variety of factors at play here, some of which we must analyze in some...

Head Master: (asking Analyst 1) What's he saying?

Analyst 3: (to Head Master) He's the one who speaks on Bloomberg TV. He can't be less ambiguous than that.

Head Master: He can't be more ambiguous than that.

Analyst 3: Oh trust me, I've seen him perform. He can be much more ambiguous than that.

Merrill: Goldman is a bar of Gold, man. Khara sona. I've known him for many...

Goldman: Merrill is a piece of trash, he gets drunk and then he has these fights in pubs, and...

NAB: Merrill, he's just a nosy prick. What's he got to do with how much money I lost at the casino, why doesn't he tell everyone just how much he blew up at last night's sub-prime orgy...

Merrill: NAB, I'm going to destroy your career. Wachovia (wink wink), dude let's meet up at Larry's at seven tonight, what? The beer's on me... (shouting out loud) Sir, you have to listen to me...

Citicorp: A single-minded dedication to my customers, a blinding obsession with their needs, and sharp focus on their demands...

Analysts: Sir, we might be benefiting from the advice we're giving you. Or we might not. Perhaps, somewhat, maybe, however, even then, if. We're not kicking any buts yet.

Head Master: I think I'll just go into a tailspin and see whether any of these buffoons can predict what I'm going to do next. (evil laughter that signals the dawn of dementia)