I remember the night they locked me away for investment fraud at RAINN Capital. They put me in with a tough crowd. There was Mikey: a hard-noser who never took no for an answer, especially back when he was roping in clients for the pyramid scheme that was RAINN Capital. There was Rick: everything that either entered or left the doors had to go through Rick’s hands—that was intern policy at RAINN. I wanted to ask if we still had that same setup, but he gave me a look that said “please don’t make me talk while I piss in this corner.” Finally, there was Greg “The Cuisinart” McGraw. We called him “Cuiso”, and he was a torture-murderer.
“Well this is the Vail retreat all over again,” I said. That got some laughs, but not as many as when Cuiso ripped my hair out and fed it to me. I spat it out and said, “Yikes, more like the 2012 Vegas-a-Thon!” No one laughed, and Cuiso resumed stuffing my mouth. I forgot only I had been to the 2012 Vegas-a-Thon.
Cuiso said he didn’t care about money, and was perfectly happy just being a torture-murderer. Times like this make you want to say, “Oh really!? I guess I’m getting all this money because no one else wants it, right?” but I learned that it’s best to not say that at all. I learned that after saying it to Cuiso.
Sometimes I’d tell Cuiso, “You’re being a real Jenny.” Jenny worked in HR back at RAINN, and she used to pester the board of directors. But since I’ve been in prison, I’ve realized she wasn’t that bad. It’s more accurate to say that, whenever Jenny asked for “legitimate” tax forms, she was being a real Cuiso.
Nevertheless, Cuiso and I became close. Our bond was cemented when we helped each other break out of prison: Cuiso carrying me on his back, and I distracting the guards, hurling dollar bills at them and shouting, “What if I told you there’s more where that came from?”
Once we were free men, I asked Greg McGraw why he ever became known as “The Cuisinart”. He said it was because right before he murdered someone, he tortured them.