The Bull says...

Our newest Terminali is restless. Seems he cannot wait until May 15 to study his cap portion allotment. So. I have instructed DePlancher to appease him! Thing is, DeP is off hunting truffles with that cute hog that starred in that Pig in the City film a few years back. But, when she returns, I am not bearish that the bull will be fed.

Bulldust says:
How goes that capital, Doomey? Have you spoken to Deplancher of late, seen her in that haunted disco at all? Tell me, Doomey, is Bulldust going to be inundated with capital like a victorious matador is showered with roses? Will it all be dumped off into my pen like a truckload of horse manure? Dear mates, it may surprise you to know that I am not the patient type. I am fickle in nature and may not have the tolerance or endurance to sustain such a plethora of capital. Will it also come to me in a trickle as it has came to you, dear Doomey? Too much all at once might make me see red.

Can you whisper to Deplancher to perhaps get her to drop some cap my way before the official swinging open of the literary gates. The reason is simple, my mates: I have bullfights to attend, matadores to put holes into with my horns. Sevilla is bustling with activity in the bullfighting season. I am not just a thinking bull. I am a champion Fighting Bull with a very pressing, busy roster of matadores and novilleros to face.

So please, Doomey, after you have drunk and become drunk, speak to Dep, or to TQR, and advocate for me. Let me have some cap now, so that I may keep my master at bay and impress upon the new boss that I, Senor Bulldust of Sevilla, am on top of things. Do not make me come down to the Floor to get it. I implore you. Give Bulldust some capital now so that he does not explode or implode in the month of May.