So Hank...can I call you Hank? I think I can since you're asking me and my American colleagues for $700 billion to step in and save a pristine free market economy that you used to think didn't need the attention of the federal government. I believe I've earned that right to informality. 

So, Hank...let's talk a little. You need a little cash, huh? You want me to chip in and help you out. That's what we do around here, we help each other out when people are down, right? I get that. I want to help. It's American. 

I see that you used to run Goldman Sachs and probably had a lot of fun wheeling and dealing in the very part of the financial sector that's brought us to the brink of what you are sure could be the collapse of the world economy. That's cool, Paul. You had fun, didn't think you needed the regulation. Didn't know you were being a bad kid.

So, you'd done all you could at Goldman Sachs and when our very own savvy president asked you to serve your country, you figured you'd do it since you'd done all there was to do with these...uhhh...what do you call them now? Toxic assets. Yeah, the toxic assets that you want to buy.

I liked how you were cool there for a while. You made me feel better, Hankie. Can I call you Hankie? Do you want that $700 billion? Yeah, I can call you Hankie.

You were so cool just this last July when you reassured some of the chicken littles who saw some potential problems with the financial situation due to this  sub-prime lending boondoogle by saying, "it's a safe banking system, a sound banking system. Our regulators are on top of it. This is a very manageable situation.”

Now I appreciate you telling me that there are a lot of ins, a lot of outs, a lot of what have yous to the current situation. You make a strong case that the complications of the situation make it difficult for you to find just the right words to explain how this situation might just be a little more manageable if we quickly hit up our ATM and give you $700 billion before the universe collapses.

Hankie, baby, (can I call you baby...yeah, I thought so), you sure made your point today that we should just give you the money, no strings, no looking over your shoulder, no penalties for the bad boys, no asset returns to us taxpayers, no mortgage re-structuring....just a cool $700 b's and you, and you alone or your successor, will fix this shit.

So, I'm down. You look like a serious man. I want to help a serious man with a serious problem. But, didn't you or maybe some of your laissez-faire economic buddies, come up with that saying that "there's no free lunch"? That was you, wasn't it? Or someone you know anyway.

I really agree with that Hankster. And since you've pretty much told me that I just have to trust you with the $700 billion and not ask to see the books or question your impeccable judgment, I don't think I'm out of line in asking YOU for a few things in return that won't upset the financial fruit basket, but give me some comfort.  Sort of an in-kind payment, if you will.

Here they are:

• I would like for you to buy a wig. You are not good bald, you are scary bald. In fact, you're so bald, that I sometimes think you were artifically created in Dick Cheney's dark basement laboratory. I want a red, curly wig and I want to see you wearing it everytime you testify in front of congress.

•  I think you'll agree that we need to find a way to get home values back up. My wife agrees with you and has started a little expansion project at our house. The problem is, though, it's kind of messy around here. And, since I'm helping you out here with the home value thing (and the bailout), I want to see your ass picking up the crap that's being torn down to make way for the expansion.

To wit:

I want this picked up by Saturday, Hank. And I want you and you alone to do it.

• My wife and I work fulltime and have kids so our house gets messy.  We can't really afford a maid but we just aren't getting to it all, man. I'd like you and your curly wig to come by every Thursday morning and get this place spic and span until my kids graduate from high school. If you get replaced by an Obama or McPalin administration, you can alternate weeks of cleaning between the two of you and so forth and so on.

• In February, my youngest son is going to have his 6th birthday. I am officially booking you (unless you don't want the $700 billion) as the entertainment. Hone your juggling skills and get some white face paint, Hank. I'd also look into some tricks and age-appropriate jokes. You'll also be baking the cake and cutting it and distributing it to make sure everyone gets their share. NO FROSTING FOR YOU, HANK UNLESS THERE'S SOME LEFT OVER!

•  Lastly, I'm finding it difficult to sleep lately, worrying about our home value and our Roth accounts. You can imagine, can't you Hank? I don't want to shock you, but we actually don't even make a six figure annual income, Hank.  I know, we just didn't work hard enough. Anyway...it would really help me if you could read to me at night and help me get to sleep. You gruff voice is quixotically soothing. Here are the first few books I'd like you to read to me (and caress my head as I unwind):                                                               

The Affluent Society

 You do that, Henry, and you got your check. Well, I should say, you got MY portion of the check. You'll probably need to ask the rest of the taxpayers what they want, too.