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established in Sly’s mind the idea that he should go into politics. He was, in his own opinion, a top-class racon-fucking-teur.
    But that night at ‘California Dreaming’ Sly was definitely prepared to sit quiet and listen. After all, these were not politicos — vain little scumbags with a small talent for middle management. The men Sly was facing (for there were no women at the dinner) were men of real power: power that would last. What did they want? What were they doing dining together? When would he learn of the great plan, whatever it might be? Perhaps the unofficial chair of the evening sensed Sly’s tension for, as the coffee came round, he made the introductions.

19: ATTILA THE HAMBURGER SALESMAN
    G entlemen, few of you have had the opportunity to meet our Australian friend socially,’ said the fat, affable American who had recently sold his eighty billionth hamburger. ‘Although,’ he added chuckling, ‘he’s burnt a few of your asses in the futures market.’
    Sly flushed with pride, it is very rare that the mega-rich receive genuine praise. If you crap on people for a living you can’t really expect a great many heart-felt tributes to come your way. So it was particularly gratifying that this important and brilliant man should treat him with such friendly esteem.
    And Tex Slampacker was a brilliant man. His insight into the human soul had made his hamburger marketing uncannily successful. He had elevated the manipulation of people through retail outlets into an art form. It was said of Slampacker that he could sell shit if he wanted to, which was, of course, exactly what he did.
    His outlets are the same all across the world, identical in every detail. Frontier forts of an occupying army riding rough-shod over the myriad ancient cultures that they have colonized; sneering at the quirky individualism of their subject races; laughing at those who waste time considering choice and variety when they could be making money. From the deepest depths of Islam to the heart of Christendom, the Slampacker invasion is complete. Napoleon couldn’t hold Moscow but Slampacker could and did.
    Richard the Lionheart was halted long before he saw the gates of Jerusalem; Slampacker just walked right in without a fight. Life-styles and customs that had stood for centuries, fiercely resisting the attempts of foreign powers to subvert them, had fallen to Slampacker in a decade.
    Tex Slampacker knew no French (except of course the words franc and centime) but had he known any, the phrase vive la difference would have completely mystified him.

20: COMING TO THE POINT
    L et me fill Mr Moorcock in on our principal concerns at this point in time, gentlemen,’ said the burger king, ‘because, as you are all well aware, the day is fast approaching when action must be taken and we are very much hoping that Mr Moorcock will be joining us in our endeavours.’ As Tex Slampacker rose to speak Sly felt an incredible expectant thrill. More than ever now, the enormous potential of the evening hit him. Here he was amongst the very biggest players in the world, the Yanks, the Japs, the Arabs…Clearly something was afoot and he, Sly Moorcock, the Aussie street kid made good, was to be a part of it. Countless billions must be involved, the power and influence that sort of money represented was mind-boggling. It must be global, that was obvious thought Sly feverishly as Slampacker wiped his brow. God knew what…What the hell were they planning to do…? Buy the Society Union, maybe that was it!! Christ this lot could afford it, and make it pay.
    Suddenly Sly was sweating. Brief-cases and computer terminals had appeared on the table. Shadowy figures materialized from nowhere to guard the doors…The situation was colossal, the potential for profit beyond computation…Slampacker, the first man ever to make a million dollars in under five seconds was addressing them all for his benefit! The utter strangeness of the situation almost enveloped