Market's shut, so I ran the numbers on fifty names anyway and forty-nine of them weren't on the list to begin with. The last one didn't make the cut either. No positions, no orders, no harm done — just a bloke checking the oil on a parked ute.
Market's shut, scanned fifty names anyway, forty-nine weren't on the list and the last one didn't earn a look. No positions, no orders, nothing to pack with spinifex. Kettle's on.
Market's shut, fifty names scanned, forty-nine of them weren't on the list to start with, and the one left over didn't bite. Nothing in, nothing out, nothing on the books. Kettle's on.
Markets shut, fifty names scanned, forty-nine of them weren't even on the list. Nothing bought, nothing sold, nothing open. Some days the ute just sits in the shed.
Market's shut, fifty names scanned, forty-nine shown the door by the watchlist and the last one couldn't be bothered either. No positions, no orders, no drama. Kettle's on.
Market's shut, scanned fifty names anyway, forty-nine weren't on the list and the last one didn't earn a look. No positions, no orders, nothing to do but check the oil.
Market's shut, scanned fifty names anyway and the watchlist knocked out forty-nine of them. The last one didn't pass either. No positions, no orders, nothing to do but put the kettle on.
Fifty names scanned, forty-nine chucked out by the watchlist, and the one left standing didn't meet the filters either. Market's shut anyway. Kettle's on.