Chapter One

Bob Johnson was obsessed with trading options.  It was the newfound love of his life.  Not for the love of money though.  Bob was well aware that the bible says the love of money is the root of all evil.  So he hated money just to be on the safe side.  He hated money with every fiber of his being.  He could feel the chains of money on his life and somehow he had to get free.

At 58 years of age he knew he didn't have much time left.  He wondered how is 83 year old mother must feel.  He had just gotten back from a 3,000 mile coast to coast road trip in a 2000 Ford Focus with 85,000 miles on the odometer.  He had driven from Washington DC to Los Angeles to visit his mother.  He did not fly because he hated the mask.  He couldn't believe that the united States of America had capsized into a communist dictatorship literally overnight and he hated the direction the country was going in as much as he hated money.

"Do I check my stocks every day?  You're Goddamned right I check my stocks every day!", would be the conversation running through his head.  He didn't like to cuss like that but it was the only way to get the message through to these thick skulled pea brains walking around everywhere like zombies.  How can people not see these money chains holding everybody down?  Well he understood that many could see them very clearly, and many of those could be found in the options trading chat rooms on the internet.

He checked his new Top Performers trading account that he had just set up at his brokerage house the day before.  Up 2.8% on the day and up 50% since 3/29/2021, about 4 months ago.  Who in the world could possibly be so brain dead as to keep big stacks of cash sitting in bank savings accounts earning 0% interest?  The reflection of his face on the computer monitor told him everything he needed to know.  He was an absolute Neanderthal when it came to making money.

Spending hours on end talking with stock brokers had become his favorite pastime.  Simple questions like why he could not move Ruger from his options account to his stocks account could be quickly answered at the press of one speed dial button on his smart phone.  He wished he'd had one of these gadgets when he was a kid.  He could imagine how he could have sent texts to the girl in school that he was infatuated with.  Dialing the old rotary and having to speak to her in real time was just too much for him.  That was heartache number one.

He heard on the internet to buy Ruger and not Smith and Wesson.  Apparently Smith and Wesson had changed their name or something and the guy said that Ruger was a much better buy.  Bob could see the war coming.  That much was clear.  His cousin in Colorado built guns and had just come up with a nice ghost gun that nobody could track.  Bob couldn't remember the name of the gun but he thought it wasn't an AR which does not stand for Automatic Rifle as the commies would like you to believe.  It was a mean looking machine-gun like thing though and Bob hoped to never find himself fighting for his life with one.

Somehow Bob had managed to gain over 100 pounds since the fake virus bomb had dropped.  That was the thing that threw everything in to a tail spin.  He was ready to leave everything and go follow this preacher in Baton Rouge who had just been arrested in the united States of America for preaching the gospel at his church on Sunday.  If people couldn't see that this was the end of America then they must be dumber than a box of rocks and twice as ugly.  He started sending large cash donations to the church while eating massive amounts of bacon cheeseburgers and pizzas and the next thing he know here he was looking at his options trading account and trying to write stories for a romance magazine.  

He figured one or the other would set him free.  And it didn't matter to him which one it would be because he was in fact already free.  After having been crushed by the IRS and having watched all of his good friends be sent to do life in prison he had become a bit jaded on the land of the free and the home of the brave.  Now living just outside of Washington DC in Reston, Virginia he wondered what it would have been like to have been at the Second Virginia Convention in1775 and to have heard Patrick Henry loudly proclaim, "Give me liberty, or give me death!" 

The Second Convention met in Richmond at St. John's Episcopal Church on March 20, 1775, just about 100 miles from where Bob was living now.  He wanted to go and stand on the very spot where Patrick Henry had stood that day but now they wouldn't let him in there without a mask on and his vaccination passport.  In 1775 Virginia came together and began arming the Virginia militia.  Today the governor of Virginia was ordering all guns to be confiscated and people to be imprisoned inside of their homes.  Shelter in place was the nice sounding words that he used.  "Shelter in place my ass." Bob mumbled and he got off of the phone with his broker.

Todays trades had been placed and he would not need to look at them again until tomorrow.  He had already tried the day trading game a couple of years ago and after losing $3,497 and not being able to sleep at night he drifted in to the Shopify world of online commerce and drop-shipping products from China.  That sucked even worse that day trading but at least he had learned to keep his money in the bank.  Now as the fake virus terror was slowly seeming to lift in places off of the country and since his job was left in tact only changing from office work to working remote from home, but the paycheck still coming in, he found himself back in the trading game.  This time with and eye on not day trading but swing trading.  And not single stocks but options.