Urban Trade Breakdowns

In 1715, John Law, a drunkard Scottish playboy gambler economist, escaped from death row in a London prison where he awaited execution for murder, and fled to Paris. There he drank and fucked his way through town, and somewhere along the way, he developed a friendship with the Regent of France, whose official title was the Duke of Orleans, but at the time was serving his country as the royal babysitter of the French King, Louie XV, who was 5-years old. Being 5-years old and all, Louis was not yet very good with money and laws and shit, which meant the Regent had to run the day-to-day shit in France, and that was a thankless job because France was drowning in war debt and the economy was fucked. So one night, while sipping cognac in front of the fireplace in some big-ass room full of silk curtains and paintings and shit, Law pitches the Regent on an idea: grant me the exclusive right to start a bank and print shitloads of paper money in France (which was a new thing at the time), and I ...