A fun card fable based on partial facts, mixed in with some market prediction and my glass-filled imagination. Enjoy ;)
The strong-hand position at the table is changing. NW initially was playing the cards dealt to them - the hand that generally reserved for the small biotechs. The 'you'll win this hand, if we let you win this hand' kind of manipulation. Retail shorts (some acronyms you'll remember, like LTT) and strong longs - notably, Pyrr, Flip, Evaluate and a few others long-timers, Diamond, John and Red players - each occupy a chair at the NWBO dealers' table. A bunch of HFs with bunch of chips, still undecided about getting in the game; but, a greedy bunch, they're still betting odds against the retail short and long players. The SoS analysts, the social media, Senti and Xenia moderators are also at the table - lots of AF spectacular noise. Up until now the MMs are controlling cards, sitting at the head of the table. But a fun thing just happened -a party walked in, a bunch of different scientists and doctors, all from distinguishing hospitals, around the world locations. And as such, the mood around the room begins to change - the air filled with excitement and anticipation. With this last raise of financing, there's lots of clinical trial money at the table. Another round of shuffling, the next hand is getting ready to be played. Perfectly timed, with an abstract validation and the PR release of the start of HE revenue, it is clear 'the time for NW is now'. And with that media buzz, NW moved from the players seat to the dealers' chair, and the MM moved one seat over. NW now equipped with a dealers' dream-card deck, and some good publication. With each dealt hand, a bigger and bigger crowd starts to circle around the table. One Germany patient stops by the room, others waiting to get in. Soon, some more and yet again, some more patients with different diagnosis from PI/II and PIII. And some of their friends, family members are also their too, to either bet or watch, like RK, DoGood and Hodge. Until the room is fully enrolled. The HFs have no choice but to start themselves to take a seat at the crowded table. The observing crowd starts walking around, one by one, looking at all the player's cards. They don't like the bloggers hand, they move on. That is, until they line up behind the retail players. They lean-in to support the back of the NW dealers' chair from ever failing. Even the DMC, the WP, CREW, and the FDA and SEC is looming around the room corner, peaking in. And one by one, the rest of the retail investors begins to see it and they begin to believe the positives they're been told all along. Due-diligence in hand, all those at the table now are aware of all the previous moves of the short-sighted players, including the ambulance chasers. NWBO's cards soon-to-be revealed, one catalyst in their hand, after another. A long synergistic-affect that destined to fool all of the Sharks, of their investors' money. What was clear to some early on, begins to become significantly crystal-clear to all - the NW dealer has dealt retail longs the makings of a winning hand. A Royal Flush - the best hand ever! It's now going to get harder and harder for MMs and the HFs to bluff any of us to fold or throw in our cards. Knowing this, we raise the bet - fist clinched of our cards, ready to talk smack to the commentators. The HFs and their paid guns fidget, as they see the makings of our cards - but match our bet anyway, as they're a cocky dumb bunch. The retail shorts seeing the pot go higher, well, understandably they begin to want out. More chips on the table for us. The MMs go along and slowly begins to watch momentum change. The pot just keeps grows bigger and bigger over the night. The early retail longs eventually built enough cash cushion to sit back and enjoy a few hands out, with no need to ever leave the table. Nice refreshing grapefruit drinks are served to them there, courtesy of AF's prior manipulation. No worries, more and more new retail longs as well as some Russell fund managers too see the bright story now. They decide join the table as the HFs empty out the retail short seats, now squeezed of their money. Some new HFs decide to bet on the retail long hand now too. They see up is the only way to go, as the truth is written in the science cards. And eventually the MM can no longer deny it, they want to get back in the dealers' chair, and get in on all this fun activity. They nicely ask NW, and NW, well they oblige with long awaited GBM halt news. But this time when the MMs deal the cards, we're no longer playing poker. Instead we're playing Black Jack. And sure enough, with the exception of those late to join the ride-the-wave-up party HFs. most everyone left at the table begins to win with this new dealer. The kind of vaccine MA winnings that would envy thestreet. It's the best played ihub hand ever. The crowded room begins to see what is happening and the world watching goes wild. This scientific win means more to them then money. It's a win for mankind. Drinks for everyone and anyone! There's to be a party unlike no other. The story ends so well, the rest of the card table fable goes directly on to live happily and healthily after.
...
But there is one sore loser in all of this. The only one not happy is the political science drink-runner who was asked to leave the room to get a boatload of grapefruit, as there is soon to be an investment yacht party. He, of course, isn't invited. Him and his kind move on in defeat and humiliation, with a hot trail of lawyers and SEC following behind on their backs. AF finally falls down, like the waste that he is, in spectacular fashion, alongside the cartons of grapefruit trash from our booze-cruise. No beer ever in prison for him, instead he's served grapefruit juice for life.
The end.
AI
