Town of Bedford Falls Saves General Motors From Bankruptcy

BEDFORD FALLS – General Motors Corporation was saved from bankruptcy by the generosity of the citizens of the idyllic town of Bedford Falls, New York.

Last night, GM CEO Frederick “Fritz” Henderson arrived at the ramshackle home of local building and loan executive George Bailey and his wife Mary. Mrs. Bailey excitedly pulled Henderson into the Bailey’s inexplicably large living room that resembles a sound stage and stood him next to an oversized Christmas tree.

“It’s a miracle, Mr. Henderson! It’s a miracle!” she said, anxiously awaiting the front door to burst open. The door swung open with a fury and a throng of excited revelers forced their way in. George Bailey’s uncle Billy led the way, carrying a clothes basket full of money, which he euphorically dumped onto a makeshift table set up in front of the shocked CEO.  The other town folk followed suit and, like modern day Magi, giddily spilled money from their pockets, wallets, shoe boxes and coffee pots. 

“Mary did it, Mr. Henderson! Mary did it!” cried out a rapturous Uncle Billy. “She told a few people General Motors was in trouble, and they scattered all over town collecting money. They didn’t ask any questions. They just said, ‘If General Motors is in trouble, count me in!’”

A tavern owner named Guiseppe Martini, who for this one night pretended General Motors made a motore superior to Fiat, poured a boxful of change atop the pile and blurted out, “I busted the juke-a-box!” The crowd laughed heartily because no one could understand what the hell he was saying.

Local pharmacist and former “rummy” Emil Gower emptied a large glass jar full of money on the table. “I made the rounds of my charge accounts,” he explained, “and I threatened to have my goons break the fingers of anyone who didn’t pay up.”

A cabdriver read a telegram to Mr. Henderson from Bedford Falls native, industrialist Sam Wainwright: “Mr. Gower cables you need cash. Stop. My office instructed to advance you up to 25 billion dollars. Stop. Hee-haw and Merry Christmas. Sam Wainwright.” The crowd erupted into cheers, but someone said quietly, “Sam must be doing drugs again.”

A war hero stepped forward and raised a glass. “A toast — to this man, whose identity I don’t know, but who is one lucky son of a bitch — undoubtedly the richest man in town if not the world.”

The revelers broke into “Auld Lang Syne,” and Mr. Henderson quietly gathered up the loot and slipped out the front door.

Jun 1