Okay, this French Banker walks into a bar, his name is Rene-Thierry Magon de la Villehuchet, but we’re gonna call him The Banker cuz that’s way easier to say. In the bar he meets a guy called Bernie Madoff, who we’re gonna call The Other Guy. So the Other Guy says to the Banker, “Hey, give me some cash for my stock market fund, and I can make you way more money that the stock market is paying off, and I can do it every year like clockwork, no matter how well the stock market is performing.” So the Banker, who really ought to have known better, gives the Other guy a pile of not only his own, but a bunch of his bank’s cash too.
They make piles of money for years, and keep reinvesting all this great loot back into the fund. That’s when the Other Guy gets busted for running a Ponzi Scheme he was calling a market fund, and everybody loses all of their money. The Other Guy goes to jail, and the Banker, who even after losing all that cash is still one of the ten wealthiest men on the planet, eats a bottle of sleeping pills and slices his left arm open with a box cutter. In so doing, the Banker leaves behind his wife, his brother, a pile of friends and people he sailed and yachted with, an ongoing project restoring the family chateau in Brittany which had brought him so much joy, his job… though he may have crashed that cart already… as well as all the other things that make a man’s life worth living when he’s not obsessively crazed over losing a bunch of money he never needed anyway… and dragging a major financial institution into the crapper with you.
Two days later the government of France bailed out the Banker’s bank.