Right now, Dunn's laser-focused on one thing: Yahoo's stock trajectory. It's his baby, and he's watching it like a hawk.
Just like Scott Swift predicted, Yahoo's stock price has been climbing steadily. But the trading volume? Not so hot—it's been hovering around 20 million shares. That is, until December 7th hit. The opening price was $296, and within half an hour, it skyrocketed by $30, blasting past the $300 mark!
The Nasdaq basically exploded!
That day alone, Yahoo's trading volume hit 260 *million* shares—a record-breaking single-day high since it went public. With Yahoo's total shares at about 2.5 billion, you can imagine how frantic the buying and selling got.
No way this was small-time traders. Even Dunn, a big player with 2.1 million shares, couldn't stir up that kind of chaos. This had Wall Street's fingerprints all over it!
Dunn hopped a flight back to New York to keep tabs on the madness, grilling Scott Swift for answers.
What the heck was going on?
"Last year-end, Yahoo's stock had a weird spike," Scott explains. "It shot up fast—hit $400, even. Totally abnormal. But it only held that peak for two days before crashing back to around $150, a more 'normal' price."
"This year's playing out the same way. Since November, it's been on a tear—broke $200, kept climbing. Wall Street's big dogs—securities firms, investment banks—they're all wary after last year's greed burned them. So this time, they played it safe. They figured $300 was the tipping point and dumped their shares all at once. That's what caused the insane volume."
Scott's keeping it light, skipping the shady, complex financial tricks those firms pull behind closed doors.
Dunn nods, piecing it together. "So, if the banks and firms don't think Yahoo can hold above $300, they're probably going hard in the futures market, right?"
Scott shoots him a surprised look and nods. "Yup. The New York Mercantile Exchange has been buzzing lately."
Dunn cracks up. "Oh, this is gonna be good! If Yahoo keeps climbing next month, their short bets… they're gonna lose their shirts!"
Scott shakes his head. "Dunn, Wall Street's institutions are pros. Even if they're betting on a crash, they've got safeguards in place."
Dunn's confused. "Huh?"
"Hedging," Scott says, breaking it down since Dunn's no finance guru. "They throw some money at shorting the stock, but also keep buying shares. That way, if the price swings unexpectedly, they don't get wiped out."
"But if everything goes as planned, doesn't that cut their profits too?" Dunn's starting to get it.
Scott grins. "Exactly. Wall Street's not like you, Dunn. Your money's yours—you can go all-in. But they're playing with borrowed cash, working for shareholders. They can't afford to gamble big."
Dunn chuckles and shakes his head. "It's like democracy versus dictatorship. Democracy's nice, sure, but with all that pressure, it plays it safe—stable, boring. Dictatorship? Mess it up, and you're infamous. Nail it, and you're a legend!"
Scott's a bit thrown by Dunn's wild tangent but rolls with it, laughing. "Yeah, if we pull this off, we'll be the talk of Wall Street!"
"Fame's cool," Dunn says with a sly smirk, "but I'm in it for the cash."
Scott straightens up fast. "Oh, for sure! Don't worry—as long as your gut's right, I'll turn your hunch into ten, maybe dozens of times the profit!"
"Looking forward to your good news, then," Dunn says. "Keep me posted. And no selling those shares without my say-so, got it?"
---
Mid-December rolls around, and the 57th Golden Globe nominations drop.
*The Wedding Crashers*, with over $200 million in North America and $280 million worldwide, snags two big nods: Best Actor and Best Actress in a Musical or Comedy.
Jude Law and Reese Witherspoon, total newbies, are stepping onto Hollywood's main stage. Jude's killing it especially—not only did he score a nom for *The Wedding Crashers*, but his role in *The Talented Mr. Ripley* landed him a Best Supporting Actor nod too.
Winning, though? That's a long shot. Reese is up against heavyweights like Julianne Moore, Julia Roberts, Sharon Stone, and Janet McTeer—all vets with years in the game. Jude's got it even tougher. A British rookie isn't likely to win over American voters on his first red-carpet strut.
Dunn's best shot at a win? *Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace*, which he directed himself. With $570 million in North America and $1.1 billion globally, it's a juggernaut—and it nabbed a Best Supporting Actress nod!
Natalie Portman's Queen Padmé Amidala owned the last 40 minutes of the film, winning over the judges with a pure blockbuster vibe. It's her first Golden Globe nom ever!
But compared to these three rising stars, another newbie director is straight-up dominating the Globes: Sam Mendes. The Brit behind *American Beauty* and currently polishing *Girl, Interrupted* is on fire.
*American Beauty* dropped and instantly won over critics and filmmakers alike. The Golden Globes showered it with love: Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Drama), Best Actress (Drama), Best Screenplay, and Best Score—six nominations total!
Suddenly, *American Beauty* is everywhere. And Sam's next project, *Girl, Interrupted*, is now the hot topic among media and fans.
Right after the noms hit, Dunn gets more good news: Natalie aced her grades and got acceptance letters from *Harvard* and *Yale*!
Dunn's in New York, glued to Yahoo's stock moves, and heads straight to Natalie's family party as the proud boyfriend. It's a classic Jewish family vibe—kinda quirky, not totally his scene.
Natalie knows he's out of his element. She grabs his arm, grinning smugly. "So, what should I study?"
"Didn't you pick clinical psychology?" Dunn asks.
"I can change it," she shrugs. "The first two years are just basics anyway—real major stuff kicks in later." She gives him a playful eye-roll.
Dunn scratches his head. "I never went to college, but I'm all for whatever you choose."
"But…" Natalie hesitates, "I'm not sure clinical psychology helps me—or your career—down the line."
"College is just an experience, Nat," Dunn says, pulling her in gently. "I've got the career stuff covered. You don't need to stress—just pick what you love."
"Oh." She nods blankly, then giggles. "Hey, what if your company tanks and I flop as an actress?"
Dunn laughs. "Easy—you open a clinic and support me!"
"I'd support *you*, sure," she teases, "but other women? No way!"
Dunn rolls his eyes. "Talent and women follow a bell curve. You think if I go broke, ladies will still flock to me?"
"Yep!" she chirps.
"Who?"
"Me!"