Party Like a Lipton

Marty Lipton, who surely invented the poison pill and may or may not have brought "European bottle service" to discotheques nationwide, is known to some as the consumate practical joker. Rumor has it that back in the mid-Seventies, he placed a whoopie-cushion behind the pillow on his friend and partner Herb Wachtell's desk-chair, and when Herb (then the head of WLRK's famed "domestic disputes" practice) sat down, it emitted a real "Bronx cheer"!

In the mid-Eighties, during the height of Lipton's fictional feud with Joe Flom, he is said to have perfected the art of the office prank--not surprising given that he is said to be impervious to conventional weaponry. From the barrage of singing telegrams he sent Flom during tense merger negotiations in 1986, to the petting zoo (including peacocks!) he supposedly had set up in Flom's office during a meeting concerning a hostile LBO, Lipton is thought to have "gotten Flom's goat" more than once--no pun intended!

Although Marty is no longer a spring chicken, we understand that he shows no signs of slowing down. Indeed, we have it on information and belief that he is going stronger than ever, and may have in fact pulled perhaps his greatest prank yet. From a source inside the hallowed halls of biglaw, we are told that when Mr. Flom was out to lunch last week (no doubt frequenting Skadden's new frozen yogurt machine (now serving "Pralines and Cream")), Mr. Lipton snuck into Flom's office and reprogrammed the ring-tone on Mr. Flom's mobile phone. Hours later, when Mr. Flom was back from lunch and sitting at his desk in a meeting with a potential new client, he was more than surprised when, from his cell phone, he heard not the traditional ring that he had grown accustomed to, but rather, the modern dance hit "Party Like a Rock Star." Rumor has it that because of his ring tone, Mr. Flom lost that potential client (to Mr. Lipton, nonetheless--an unintended consequence of what was meant to be a harmless prank), because that potential client is said to HATE the Shop Boyz, who wrote and performed the number.

Follow up calls that we didn't make to Mr. Flom's office were obviously not returned.

Fro Yo Update # 2

One of our spy's at Skadden (in the accounts receivable department) informs us that the firm has refused delivery of WLRK's fabled "fro yo" machine (now serving chocolate-vanilla swirls!), instead opting to send it on to Paul Roth as a charitable gift. While lay-persons might interpret this 331H-10 election simply as a means by which to take a large charitable write-off, we here at the Poison Pill know the situation to me much more complex. Indeed, we hear that Joe Flom "loves the dairy products" but that the dairy products "don't love him." Yes, that's right, we hear that Joe Flom is lactose intolerant.

Now, this wouldn't on its own be a de facto reason for Skadden to refuse to accept delivery of a fro yo machine, but apparently Mr. Flom--known for not having invented the poison pill--has a soft spot for frozen yogurt despite the fact that it is said to make him farty and bloated. When he heard that Skadden would be receiving the fro yo machine--one donated by Marty Lipton nonetheless--we hear from our fake source that he threw a temper tantrum, both because of his (fictional) feud with Marty Lipton, and because he knew that, if available in the Skadden Cafeteria, he wouldn't be able to resist the appeal of that sugary sweet nectar, regardless of its effect on his digestive system (including the colon!). As such, we are told that Mr. Flom ordered two junior associates in the tax department to "burn the midnight oil" and stay long past closing time (1 am) to design a transaction in which they could obtain a tax write off for the machine, while at the same time passing on what he believes to be an "evil" yogurt dispenser, to Paul Roth, who is known more for his accumen at the "mashed potato" than his love for frozen concoctions, but appears to enjoy a good snow-cone every once in a while as well.

We wish Mr. Roth and his minions good luck with the fro-yo machine, and recommend having rainbow sprinkles available at all times to make the experience "extra fun."

Fro-Yo Update

Our insider has confirmed that The Law Office of Marty Lipton has in fact removed the firm’s frozen yogurt machine from the premises. Contrary to popular belief, the frozen yogurt machine was not removed for required maintenance. Rather, we have learned that the machine was donated to Skadden Arps in order to make room for the Pinkberry franchise that is slated to open next week on WLRK’s 24th floor.

Lipton has always been one step ahead of the competition. Though at one time, a frozen yogurt machine may have been the perk that convinced top law school recruits to accept offers from WLRK over its competitors, times are changing. In order to lure away top candidates, many top firms now offer frozen yogurt machines, some of which change flavors weekly. Lipton wannabes, however, will now have to pony up a Pinkberry franchise just to keep pace.

Along with Pinkberry’s two (that’s right, two!) delicious flavors, regular or green tea, WLRK attorneys will now be able to enjoy a host of fresh and exotic fruit toppings including bananas, kiwi, passionfruit, and our favorite, durian flown in from Southeast Asia.

Breaking News Regarding Marty's Frozen Yogurt Machine

As we've previously reported, the Law Firm of Marty Lipton recently installed a "complimentary" frozen yogurt machine in its lawyers' lunch room (off limits to non-esquires, who can enjoy frozen custard in a separate facility of their own). From what we gather, the machine has been a huge hit since its installation, and in fact has to be refilled quite often--sometimes more than twice (twice!) a day. If you are just tuning in, lawyers at the Law Firm of Marty Lipton love them some frozen yogurt!

This afternoon, we here at the Poison Pill received a startling report from one of our many spies. From what we understand, yesterday, a group of attorneys, on their daily 15 minute sustenance/lavatory break, entered the Lipton lunchroom to find that their beloved frozen yogurt machine was missing. You heard us right, missing! Grief stricken that they could not enjoy their daily fix of frozen fermented bacteria and sugar substitutes, these attorneys supposedly sat motionlesss in the lunchroom for a full billable hour before realizing that they were wasting serious time that could be better spent billing clients or otherwise playing Galaga in the firm's game-room (note: we understand that these attorneys will be billing this lost hour to a billing code entitled "lunchroom administration," so that they can properly account for their time).

Nobody seems to know why the frozen yogurt machine, popular with oh-so-many employees (especially on "Butter Praline" day), has gone missing, but we have a theory: we understand that the frozen yogurt machine was purchased by non other than Marty Lipton, the inventor of the poison pill and ballroom dancer extraordinare. Therefore, the machine, like Lipton, must be impervious to physical ailment, and thus cannot be broken. The only logical explanation for its disappearance, then, is that Mr. Lipton has removed the machine on purpose, as some sort of a motivational ploy. To what end he wishes to motivate his employees, however, we cannot surmise, because that would require us to think on the same level as Mr. Lipton, and while we're no slouches in the grey-matter department, we know enough not to bother with such a pointless exercise, because we (as would you) would fail miserably. Quite simply, Marty we ain't.

If you have any information or theories as to the missing frozen yogurt machine, kindly contact us at maxwellhause@gmail.com. We would start an "open forum" on the frozen yogurt machine, but all truth be told, we don't know how to do that, and also we fear open forums (one of us grew up in Eastern Europe).



UPDATE: We are told that the frozen yogurt machine--which apparently was not purchased by Marty Lipton, but rather, appears to have been purchased by a purchasing agent in the firm cafeteria, at the behest of the cafeteria sous-chef (not to be confused with Herb Wachtell, head of the firm's esteemed "food poisoning defense" practice group)--is, in fact, broken, and has been sent out for repairs. We will let you know if we hear when it is slated to be returned. In the meantime, we recommend that you try a chipwich or a bomb-pop, now available at any local Bodega.

Paging Dr. Lipton, Dr. Lipton

For those of you keeping score at home, let it be know: Marty Lipton invented the poison pill. That's right, he invented it!! Marty Lipton is an inventor. This, of course, begs the question--does Marty Lipton have a laboratory?

Well, the answer is simple--he must. After all, he IS an inventor (he invented the poison pill). We can only venture to guess, but we imagine that Marty's laboratory, perhaps located deep underground beneath 51 West 52nd Street, might possibly (but probably doesn't really) contain the following items:

-Stuffed animal heads (mounted on the walls) that Mr. Lipton may or may not have stuffed himself during his reported taxidermy craze in the early 1990's;

-A 20 x 20 foot parkay dance floor, used to practice ballroom and salsa dancing (as well as the occasional "mashed potato-off" with Paul Roth (the New York bar's "master" of the mashed potato);

-The Panda suit donned by Joe Flom during the infamous "panda suit incident" in the late 1980's;

-A complete set of "Corbin on Contracts":


-A professional grade chemistry set (including 25 test tubes and at least 15 pyrex beakers), that Mr. Lipton uses to create and test his newest legal innovations;

-A glass case enclosing/protecting the single peppercorn that Mr. Lipton purportedly once received as his solitary remuneration for defending against an LBO (he was testing the legal concept of consideration);

-A laboratory assistant named Herbert (who may or may not also be the head of The Law Firm of Marty Lipton's famed med-mal practice group);

-A defective Pinto that we hear Mr. Lipton is trying to restore;

-VHS copies of every episode of "Inside the Actors' Studio";

-Jumper cables;

-A refrigerator full of soda and cold treats;

There you have it. What we can only guess may very well be the contents of Mr. Liptons (most likely non-existent) laboratory.

A Note to the WLRK Person Who is Oft On This Site

Dear WLRK Person who is spending an exorbitant amount of time on the site:

Hi! How are you? We’re ok, thanks. A little hungry, but it’s almost dinnertime, so that’s good.

We’ve noticed that you are spending alot of time on the site of late. Alot more than anyone else, anyway. We would like to think that you simply enjoy reading it, and find its contents amusing--but of that, we’re not so certain. We’re curious what you are doing up here so often? Given your viewing record, it seems to us, anyway, like you could possibly be “preparing” for something. Who knows?

We don't think that we’ve said/done anything wrong on this site (isn't there a Galaga machine in the video arcade?). That said, we’re just some regular common folk trying to make our way in this world. Average Joe's, if you will. The David to your Goliath. To the extent you don’t like what we’re doing, we’d love to talk about it with you and reach an amicable resolution of any differences we might have. There’s no need to be spending all that time preparing for something that could possibly be avoided with a simple conversation. Email us at maxwellhause@gmail.com and we'll talk. Seriously.

Best always,

Maxwell and Robert

Marty Lats

According to our spies, famed corporate law wonk, Marty Lipton, has a new workout buddy: Matthew McConaughy! That’s right, Matthew McConaughy is taking fitness tips from none other than M&I heavy, Marty Lipton.

Word around the campfire is that the two met when McConaughy spotted Lipton working on his lats with a medicine ball. McConaughy was apparently impressed with Lipton’s spectacular washboard abs and bronzed pecs. McConaughy approached the shirtless (and chiseled) Lipton at the smoothie bar where the two discussed Lipton’s favorite Yoga moves over a protein energy shake.

The two were later spotted jogging shirtless through New York’s central park, part of Lipton’s daily cardio binge. That’s not all! According to one insider, Lipton and McConaughy hit up New York hot spot Marquee enjoying European bottle service with Lipton’s entourage. Did we mention they were shirtless!

The Alternative Billing Practices of the Esteemed Mr. Lipton

You will recall that a few weeks ago, the Wall Street Journal Law Blog reported that a number of "high powered" New York City attorneys--including Simpson Thacher partner and insurance industry lackey Barry Ostrager, among others--will be increasing their rates to more than $1000 per hour. In the weeks since this article ran, without a doubt, the number one query we've received over here at the Poison Pill has been: "hey, why wasn't Marty Lipton included on that list," or some similar such derivation. Well, we'll tell you!

Legal legend has it that for some time now, Marty Lipton has eschewed "traditional billing mechanisms," instead, attempting to arrive at newer and more streamlined ways to bill his clients. Sure, when he started practicing back in the 1960's, he charged an hourly fee (a whopping $75 per), but with the onset of M&A fever back in the early 80's (a fever which coincided with the breakup of Lipton's barbershop quartet, which begs the question--which came first, the quartet or the corporate takeover?), Lipton quickly discovered that there were more effective ways to make money as a high-powered corporate lawyer than by using the usual "hourly rate."

In 1982, Lipton and a corporate client agreed that instead of using typical, by-the-hour legal fees, WLRK would be remunerated with a percentage of stock in the transaction WLRK had been structuring. At the end of the day, when the deal closed, WLRK, as a result of Marty Lipton's sheer genius, walked away from the deal with over $20 million dollars in stock (as opposed to the measly few hundred grand they would've billed in hourly legal fees), which it then liquidated, at a substantial profit. It was no wonder then, a few weeks later, when WLRK's second largest conference room was morphed into a video arcade, complete with a brand new Galaga machine, Frogger, Ms. Pac Man, Donkey Kong, and a Pool table that can also be used for ping-pong when covered with a large piece of plywood (also generously included as a result of Mr. Lipton's windfall).

In the years that followed, it is said that Mr. Lipton eschewed the billable hour billing model in his corporate practice altogether, instead opting only to take on deals in which he and his firm could "share in the action." From 1982-1990, Lipton supposedly earned well North of $450 million dollars in fees for the firm as a result of such "alternative" billing arrangements. This, of course, goes to explain the brand new "Scotch Guard" carpeting that was installed throughout WLRK's office hallways back in 1988.

It was also during the late 80's that other attorneys began to take notice of WLRK's good fortune (it was really really nice carpet), and opted to follow Lipton's lead and structure alternative billing arrangements of their own. It should be noted, however, that Lipton's partner Herb Wachtell--head of WLRK's esteemed "lemon law practice group" (now suing any Richmond County auto dealership!)--is rumoured to have disagreed with Lipton's innovative billing techniques, and as such was never one of those other attorneys. Indeed, we have it on information and belief that the venerable Wachtell, unlike his esteemed partner, has always charged an hourly rate (or a full day "per diem" rate for EBT's in any of the 5 boroughs).

But as we know all too well, capital markets worldwide took a downturn in the early 1990's, drying up the M&A transaction well, and forcing many a good corporate attorney who had copied Marty Lipton's groundbreaking alternative billing mechanisms, to move back to the traditional hourly-billing model. As we've explained before, it was during this period that Marty Lipton found some downtime, which he used to focus on some unexplored hobbies--including taxidermy, salsa dancing, and Mexican style cooking. But what most folks don't know, however, is that while other attorneys were returning, with their tails between their legs, back to the billable hour, Marty Lipton was stretching the bounds of the attorney-client billing model like it had never been stretched before. Having netted well over $4 billion dollars from sale of the stock WLRK had earned as compensation as lead attorney on a number of lucrative securities transactions in the late 80's, Lipton found himself less interested in money, and more interested in other types of opportunities. It was during this time that Lipton began to accept "interesting barters" rather than "money," as payment for his services. It is said that in exchange for services rendered under his "barter" system, Lipton received, among other things, a signed, autographed Dale Earnhardt racing helmet, the original ruby slippers from the movie the Wizard of Oz, and a lifetime supply of Orville Reddenbacher's "southern style" popping corn.

But it wasn't until 1993 when Lipton wowed the entire legal community when he opted to test the bounds of the legal concept of "consideration" by accepting nothing but a peppercorn in return for his services defending a large auto parts conglomerate from a potential greenmailer! That's right, you heard us, a single peppercorn as payment for over 200 hours of legal services performed! In the months that followed, Lipton went on to accept only a "hawk" for structuring a large securities deal, and a "robe" for defending a small boutique investment bank from an LBO takeover attempt, not only to further test the concept of consideration, but as one has pundit noted, "just because [he] could."

The nature of Lipton's billing practices of late are highly confidential, and as such, unknown to our myriad sources in the legal community. But if there is one thing we do know, it is that Marty Lipton is always one step ahead of everyone else--which means that he is, as we speak, no doubt employing newer and even more inovative billing methods than have ever been conceived by the human mind; further proof that Mr. Lipton may indeed, be superhuman.

Uncle Marty

There has been a lot of talk these days about first year associate salaries. $165k to live in Philadelphia!? We’re not impressed. With all due respect to our friends down in the city of brotherly love, we’ll pass. Quite frankly, if I was on law review at an Ivy League law school, I would take a job in WLRK’s (a/k/a the Law Offices of Marty Lipton) mail room before I took a gig in Philly. For those of you actually considering employment by a firm other than WLRK, allow us to explain:

It’s no secret that Lipton and his ilk like to take care of the “help.” Trust us, between Lipton’s jaw dropping M&A gold mine, and Herb Wachtell’s successful slip n’ fall practice group (now servicing Bronx County), WLRK can afford to shell out some serious clams. Though unconfirmed, we hear that the guy who cleans the toilet stalls at WLRK makes more than the average partner at Wilson Elser (one of herb Wachtell’s chief competitors). WLRK’s receptionist drives a Maserati for crying out loud.

That’s right, the poison pill auteur is not afraid to flaunt it (after all, it is Marty Lipton’s proverbial milkshake that brings all the Fortune 500 companies to the yard). In addition to astronomical annual and semi-annual bonuses, Sir Marty has started to offer “alternative” incentive based compensation packages to his associates. For example, Lipton recently offered a week long paid vacation to the first associate to bill 3000 hours within the first five months of the fiscal year. Lipton is also rumored to have paid Joe Flom his hourly billing rate ($250 an hour) to dress up like a clown and make balloon animals at Lipton’s granddaughter’s birthday (Flom gladly accepted).

If you think WLRK’s salaries are insane, wait until you see the perks. We’re told that Lipton has constructed a scale replica of The Mall at Short Hills on its 23rd floor. During their lunch breaks (on weekends only), associates are encouraged to take their spouses shopping. Guess what, its all on uncle Marty. Did we mention that Litpon recently installed a frozen yogurt machine in the lawyer’s lunch room?! In case you weren’t paying attention, frozen yogurt.

Getting hungry? After churning out 250 billable hours a month, who wouldn’t be! Look no further than your office desk for a lavishly prepared gourmet meal prepared by a three star Michelin chef. In the mood for Lobster Thermador at two in the morning? No problem. Lipton’s around the clock kitchen staff is happy to whip up any dish (including Marty’s famous German Potato Salad) and deliver it right to your desk. The days of squandering valuable billable hours by having to walk to the firm cafeteria are over.

Aside from mind boggling kickbacks, WLRK stands out on any resume. We can’t stress this enough people. Marty Lipton invented the poison pill! He invented it! We also hear that Lipton recently scored over 800 points in a sanctioned Scrabble match against hedge fund shill, Paul Roth.

Barbershop Marty

It is legend in the pantheon of legal rumour and inuendo that the genesis of Joe Flom's (fictional) feud with Marty Lipton was not, in fact, their competing M&A practices, but rather, differences of opinion over their shared a capella stylings. That's right--it turns out that in the early 1980's, Flom and Lipton founded and performed together, in a barbershop quartet.

Known as the Loan Rangers (because of a certain LBO takeover mechanism that was popular in those days), Flom (as soprano) and Lipton (as bass), performed alongside litigation hero Herb Wachtell (as baritone), and a fourth unidentified tenor singer who may or may not have been actor Bryan Brown (of "FX", "FX2" and "Cocktail" fame), in venues as far ranging as Hilly's on the Bowery (the precursor to CBGB's), the Westchester County Fair, the yearly Drexel Burnham Lambert junk bond convention run by Michael Milken, and on occassion, when hurting for a gig, the 6 train running from Eastchester/Dyre Avenue in the Bronx, to Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn.

It is said that for many months, the men worked together swimmingly--both on arrangements and vocalizations, and in performances as well (Flom's high soprano harmony is said to have perfectly complimented, and as one former fan put it, "danced around" Liptons sparing, understated-yet-refined "tuba style" bass harmonies)--until their infamous fight in the fall of 1991 over the group's dress style. Apparently, Marty (understandably) wanted to go with the traditional red and white striped shirts, black pants, suspenders, and straw hats, while Flom (inexplicably) wanted to "update" the group's look with dark, double breasted suits and bowler hats.

What is more, it appears that Flom also wished for the group to go in a new musical direction as well--even going so far as to create a capella arrangements for all the songs from the hit play "Cats," to be performed at a gig the group had booked for later that week (at the Shaun Peterson birthday party at the Brooklyn Petting Zoo). Though Lipton was (and remains) a patron of the arts and a lover of showtunes, he understood that barbershop quartets are meant to celebrate our nation's vaudevillian past, not Broadway showstuff, and rebuffed Floms attempts to take over the group and use the quartet as an outlet for his over-the-top show-style arrangements. It is said that this particular fight was so heated that it caused Bryan Brown, a renouned pacifist, to quit the group in protest, after which he went on to pursue a mediocre, short lived career in the moving pictures.

With the loss of their fabled tenor, and baritone Herb Wachtell always tied up and unable to attend regular practices due to his burgeoning "per diem" practice in Bronx County Supreme, Lipton is said to have opted to disband the Rangers for good in the spring of 1982. As the group was really the light of Joe Flom's life at the time, he is said to have never fully recovered from Lipton's move, and instead grew angry at him for "making the group go bye bye." Rumor has it that for many years, on the occasional lonesome weeknight, Joe Flom could be heard in the hall outside his office at 4 Times Square, harmonizing to vinyl recordings of old folk tunes, trying to relive those olden days, when the Loan Rangers were truly the "tops."

Lipton was also said to be upset about the groups breakup as well, but not nearly as much as Flom had been. In any event, Marty--being the resilient soul that he is (after all, he DID invent the poison pill!)--is said to have gotten over it quite quickly, upon discovering, at a black-tie-optional function, that he was a natural and gifted ballroom dancer.

M.A.R.T.Y. 2000

According to recently declassified documents obtained through our F.O.I.L. request, the United States government developed a supercomputer sometime during the late Cold War era modeled after ace corporate attorney, Marty Lipton. Its name: the M.A.R.T.Y. 2000. The M.A.R.T.Y. 2000, housed somewhere within the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain’s NORAD facility, specifically utilized Marty Lipton’s uncanny ability to solve problems, business acumen, and sheer culinary genius, to defend against Soviet attacks.

In order to prepare for a Soviet takeover, the M.A.R.T.Y. 2000 was programmed to play a number of simulated games. This included everything from Galaga, Ms. Pac Man, and our favorite, global thermal nuclear war. The M.A.R.T.Y. 2000 excelled at game play. In fact, is rumored that Joe Flom challenged the M.A.R.T.Y. 2000 to several games of tic-tac-toe. Though still classified, the M.A.R.T.Y. 2000 supposedly beat Flom 29 out of the 30 games played. Some believe that the M.A.R.T.Y 2000 intentionally allowed Flom to win the final game because it felt bad for him.

The M.A.R.T.Y. 2000 project, however, was ultimately taken off line because several top commanders were unhappy with the resolution of several simulated conflicts. It seemed that during those simulations, the M.A.R.T.Y 2000 consistently opted to launch nuclear weapons at major U.S. cities at the first sign of a Soviet invasion. While some argued that sacrificing a city such as Detroit in order to thwart a Soviet takeover was well worth it, others perceived such a tactic was somewhat controversial. In the end, the M.A.R.T.Y. 2000 was a little too far ahead of its time.

Everything's Coming up Marty

As we've previously mentioned, Marty Lipton, the fantastic vocalist that he is, has been known to tweedle the odd-showtune in the wee-hours of a tightly wound corporate merger negotiation. Whether it be for some strategic end, to simply break up the monotony of the negotiations, or to communicate down the hall to his partner --legendary litigator Herb Wachtell (head of WLRK's esteemed "no fault auto" practice)--there is no question that Marty's tactic has proven successful, time and time again. Trust us, we know. What we didn't know, however, was which showtunes Marty preferred to belt out in the boardroom. At least, that is, until now, with this morning's receipt of the following email from an anonymous reader:

To: Maxwellhause@gmail.com

From: [redacted]

Time: Sunday, September 16, 2007, 9:14 pm

Re: Marty Lipton Sighting at Ethel Merman Tribute Concert

Maxwell and Rob:

Love the site. Longtime reader, first time caller (writer?). So, this afternoon, I attended the inaguaral Ethel Merman Charity Tribute in Astoria, Queens. If you don't know, this is an event celebrating the life and music of the famed actress Ethel Merman who she is known for such show classics as "who could ask for anything more". Anyway, at some point in the late dayI took a break from the festivities to hit up the ol pishadoo and get me some refreshments, when who did I see, but Marty Lipton, walking into the auditorium with a large tub of popcorn. Now, to tell you the truth, I'm not 100% sure it was Lipton, because I actually have no idea what he looks like, but I did hear someone say to him "hey, Marty," so I'm thinking it must be Lipton because, come on. Anyway, just thought you would like to know this. You should do a feature sort of like Gawker's "Gawker Stalker," except only with Marty Lipton. For example, "I saw Marty Lipton at the Ethel Merman festival," or "Marty Lipton was seen entering 51 West 52nd Street this morning!!!!!!"

So, keep up the good work!

[redacted]

Now, whether it was or was not in fact Marty Lipton at the Merman festival this weekend, we'll never know (and quite frankly, we're now pissed off that we turned down the tickets to the festival that were offered to us by our gay anesthesiologist neighbor, Fred, on the off chance that it WAS him). Be that as it may, what we can be sure of (and by "can," we mean" we're guessing"), is that the songs that Marty Lipton would choose to sing to his clients and adversaries, were Ethel Merman songs, most likely "Everything is Coming Up Roses," which, upon information and belief, we now understand to be Marty Lipton's favorite song of all times!!!!

We thank [redacted] for his Lipton sighting and insight (though not for his grammatical acumen!!), and ask that if you have any information relating to Marty's musical preferences, let us know, because not only did he invent the poison pill (yes, you heard correctly, he invented it!!), but he appears to be a patron of the arts as well!

L'Shana Tovah, Marty Lipton

It is said that Marty Lipton, Herb Wachtell, and Co. started their little M&A/Slip and Fall defense firm because the big firms of the day wouldn't hire Jews. All disbelief aside that it was ever difficult for a Jewish lawyer to make it out there, we have always liked this story, because it shows once again how Jews can perservere and overcome in the face of adversity. There's no question about it, Marty Lipton, like all of his Jewish bretheren (the writers of this blog included), is a fighter--and whether it be religious persecution or takeover artists funding LBO attempts with unlimited Texas oil monies, he will never surrender until his work is done, which it never is.

With that, we would like to wish our hero/savior Marty Lipon a happy and healthy Rosh Hashanah--good Yom Tov and L'Shana Tova. We would pray that he be "inscribed in the book of life," but since we believe Marty to be superhuman and invincible, such prayer would essentially be pointless.

Salad a la Marty

As we have pointed out to you in the past, Marty Lipton’s innovations are not relegated to the boardroom. For example, we have come to learn that Marty Lipton is single handedly responsible for innovating a number of otherwise ordinary dishes into culinary wonders. Take for example the Caesar salad: a commonplace, dare we say bland, mix of romaine lettuce, croutons, anchovy paste, lemon juice, parmesan cheese, black pepper, olive oil, and Worchester sauce. While we are certainly not suggesting that Marty Lipton invented this culinary Chernobyl, he certainly took it from the back alleys of Tijuana, Mexico, to the forefront of America’s gastronomic sensibility.

Along with bullfights, coke mules, ubiquitous pharmacies selling cheap grey market pharmaceuticals, and the donkey show (this is apparently an off Broadway “musical” that features live animals on stage), Tijuana, Mexico is credited with being the birthplace of the Caesar salad. More specifically, the Caesar salad was invented by Caesar Cardini, a successful restaurateur and prohibition era “tequila runner” (Cardini is often credited as being the Mexican Al Capone). During the height of prohibition, alcohol deprived co-eds would cross the border for the sole purpose of enjoying a libation and a free salad at one of Cardini’s numerous theme restaurants, including famed spring break hotspot, Carlos N Charlie’s.

Though, the Caesar salad enjoyed mild popularity in the United States during the 1960s (due in part to the boom of Mexican restaurants), the fad had all but died out by the early 70s. Some say the market was just oversaturated with salads. Others opine that the Caesar was simply boring and uninspired. In 1982, the Caesar salad was given a jumpstart by none other than famed corporate whiz kid, Marty Lipton.

One afternoon, while taking clients to lunch at Midtown power scene, Ben Benson’s Steakhouse, Marty Lipton regaled the lunch crowd with witty one liners, sight gags and Joe Flom anecdotes. Never being the one to shy away from theatrics, Lipton topped even himself by ordering a Caesar salad…prepared tableside! That’s right, Lipton transformed a dull and drab salad into a three ring circus. It was a meal and a show all rolled into one.

Lipton proceeded to dazzle the crowd by preparing the salad right before their very eyes. Warming up the crowd, Lipton added the crunchy romaine to a large metallic mixing bowl. The crowd looked on as he added the dressing’s ingredients to the bowl. But wait, there’s more! After sprinkling the salad with parmesan cheese, some freshly ground pepper, and a dash of Tabasco sauce, Lipton brought the crowd to their feet by tossing the salad.

Lipton’s high octane hyjinks, a Caesar salad prepared tableside, became quite the rage amongst New York’s Upper East Side society set. Walk into any Michelin star restaurant during the 1980s and you couldn’t blink without seeing someone order a Caesar salad prepared tableside, a Salad a la Marty to those in the know.

In 1984, Lipton jazzed up the Salad a la Marty by ordering it with grilled chicken on top. That’s right, grilled chicken!

So there you have it. Not only did Lipton invent the poison pill, he invented the Caesar salad served tableside as well as the Caesar salad with grilled chicken.

Stuffed Marty

In the early 1990's, capital markets worldwide took a downturn. With the suit and tie set bearish on the economy, it was only natural that M&A transactions slowed to a near halt during that tragic time. But if there was one good thing to come out of this otherwise dire situation, it was that, with less than a full plate, Marty Lipton was finally able to focus in on some of his other interests that he had left unexplored for all those years when he was defending against LBO's and inventing poison pills and whatnot. It is rumoured that it was during this period that Marty Lipton became a licensed master taxidermist.

As we've mentioned before, Marty Lipton had always been an animal lover. But the problem with animals--especially exotic ones--he found, was that like all other living things, eventually, they die. Mr. Lipton, impervious to death (and conventional weaponry) himself, had little time for such distractions. Between his work as a high powered corporate attorney, his position as a trustee on the NYU School of Law Board of Trustees, and his various humanitarian efforts throughout the world, Lipton was uninterested in getting close to an animal and then watching it suffer tragically and then ultimately perish--as had happened with Kirby, his beloved Mako Shark. When Kirby died, it is said that Lipton swore off pet-ownership altogether, and delved, head first, into salsa dancing.

But in the years that followed, Marty often found that while he didn't miss the pain of losing a beloved pet, he did miss being surrounded by exotic, furry creatures while holed up in his grandiose Manhattan office, devising newer and better ways to protect innocent corporations. So when he found himself with a bit of free time back in 1991, he opted to do something about it, and enrolled in a taxidermy correspondence course.

WLRK minions say that those six months when he was a taxidermy student were some of the happiest of Lipton's life. Every other Tuesday, Lipton would apparently wait near the WLRK mailroom, pacing anxiously until the arrival of his latest taxidermy video and stuffing kit. And for the rest of the day--and in fact, many nights too--it is said that Lipton would barracade himself in his office with nothing but his VCR and his dream of becoming a master taxidermist. Marty being Marty, he finished the course in the record time of four months--two whole months early!--and in the Spring of 92, was accredited as a master taxidermist in a short, nondescript ceremony presided over by none other than a panda-suit donning Joe Flom!

Knowing that the recession would not last forever, Marty took no taxidermy prisoners, and in the months that followed, managed to stuff and mount a polar bear head, a whole antelope, 17 muskrats, 3 hedgehogs, a wild boar, a bison, a deer, and a giraffe--not to mention Kirby, his beloved Mako shark, whom he had previously had frozen in remembrance (rumours that Lipton stuffed and mounted famed corporate raider T. Boone Pickens are highly exagerated, and came about only because of his purported resemblance to one of Lipton's many stuffed marmits).

All of Lipton's taxidermy projects can be seen, on display, in Marty's office (which these days looks less like a zoo and more like a hunting lodge given his new, rich red mahogany cabinets), but only if you are fortunate enough to be a WLRK client, or unlucky enough to be a perilous corporate raider, in town for a negotiation session--for the old days when Marty Lipton would happily show his collection of stuffed mammal heads to any old soul off the street are over, ever since Herb Wachtell (head of WLRK's famed "personal injury practice") claimed that Lipton's office contained too many "attractive nuisances," and put a stop to Marty's impromptu tours.

Marty Lipton Will Hopefully Challenge Primate to Competition Involving Secret Ingredient (Chorizo)

Though we have never seen Marty Lipton speak (we really have no idea what he even looks like), we have no doubt that Lipton is extremely articulate and can really think on his feet. In fact, we believe that Lipton, the inventor of the poison pill, is so cunning, that he can take any position, no matter how outrageous, and dress it up to be a winner. Quite simply, he is that damned smart.

That is why we would love to witness the slaughter that would ensue if Lipton was to challenge a Neanderthal like Sean Hannity to anything. We don’t really care what it is. As long as Lipton is pitted against Sean Hannity, we will watch it. You see, while Lipton is extremely gifted, Sean Hannity is a complete moron. Hannity would have difficulty beating a chimp at connect four (best out of seven).

Because a contest against Lipton (whatever it may be) would be so lopsided, we surmise that Hannity would likely become so frustrated that he would start flinging his fecal matter at innocent bystanders like an ape at the zoo.

So Sean, we challenge you to anything against Marty Lipton. Anything! Yes or no Sean? Here are several suggestions:

1. A diorama building contest;

2. One on one ultimate Frisbee;

3. A debate over the pros and cons of forced child labor;

4. A pie eating contest;

5. Powerball (from American Gladiators); or

6. An Iron Chef style cookoff (secret ingredient: chorizo).

Lipton on Tape

Have you ever heard Marty Lipton's voice? Neither have we, but we hear that it is, in a word, breathtaking.

Rumor has it that long before Marty Lipton was a regional ballroom dancing champion, he was a deft and accomplished concert lyricist (a tenor). A source close to WLRK (and by close, we mean proximity wise, for our source is Sal, the kosher frankfurter vendor out on 52nd St.) tell us that in his younger years, Marty Lipton would often break up the monotony of a corporate merger negotiation by belting out the odd showtune. We understand that Herb Wachtell thought that this strategy would translate well to litigation, and tried once to coax answers out of a hostile witness by attempting a falsetto version of the Iron Butterfly classic "In a Gadda Da Vida," but that he quickly found that his voice was too hoarse because he had spent a number of hours that week defending a janitor against DUI charges in Mamaroneck, Long Island (in connection with his famed and lucrative "DUI defense" practice).

These days, Marty Lipton is too busy defending against hostile LBO's with Mexican foodstuffs and also learning new salsa dance steps to once again become a serious singer, but we do have it upon information and belief that he is close to signing a lucrative and exclusive deal to provide his soothing vocal stylings on the next 5 Jackie Collins books on tape. Rumor has it that Marty has always had a secret passion for supermarket romance novels (and in fact, may have even penned a few of his own) and that when the offer came across his desk, he jumped at it, quite literally, and almost sprained his ankle in the process (we say "almost" because while any normal person would have sustained a somewhat serious injury, because Lipton is impervious to pain and harm, he was, in fact, fine). Did we mention that Marty Lipton invented the poison pill?? (he invented it for Pete's sake!!!).

We wish Marty well in his new endeavor, and look forward to enjoying his sweet sounds when those cassette tapes reach the market in the coming years. We are willing to wait that long, but if are pining and simply need to hear a famed New York lawyer voice a book on tape, we recommend that you check out Paul Roth's 1994 reading of "Do the Twist: The Chubby Checker Story." While Roth's voice no doubt pales in comparison to Lipton's, Roth is known the world over not only because he is an excellent hedge fund counselor, but also because he can do a mean "mashed potato."

Marty Lipton Cup of Soup

Although completely plausible given his superhuman tendencies and the fact that he invented the poison pill (he invented the friggin thing!!!!), there is no truth whatesoever to the popular belief that Marty Lipton, in fact, invented/and or owns the Lipton Cup-a-Soup. That the namesake of this popular and affordable freeze-dried snack also happens to be Lipton, is but a mere coincidence. And when you think about it, their names are but the only thing that Marty Lipton and Lipton Cup-a-Soup have in common. For example:

1. Marty Lipton is a high powered M&A attorney who is at the top of his profession and is widely heralded as the greatest corporate lawyer of his generation (much to the chagrin of Joe Flom). Lipton Cup-a-Soup is a cheap foodstuff primarily marketed to stoners and financially strapped college students (that Cup-a-Soup is not marketed to corporate executive/general counsel set would explain why Marty's cuddly mug hasn't been plasted all over the damn thing yet).

2. Marty Lipton invented the poison pill. Cup-a-soup didn't invent anything, and in fact, is an inanimate object (soup).

3. "Cup-a-soup" is also slang for a practical joke where the prankster takes their hand, places it near their rear end, and then proceed to fart. The prankster then quickly cups/shovels the air mass towards someone's face, usually a unsuspecting victim. (depending on the intensity of the smell, it may qualify as a "cup-a-chili"). Not only is Marty Lipton not a "practical joke", but in fact, he has never farted (or urinated or defecated for that matter), because his body uses and burns 100% of the sustenance that is placed in it, and thus does not produce any waste product at all. In other words, Marty Lipton is the perfect engine (more on this later!).

4. Contrary to popular belief, Cup-a-Soup does, in fact, have a shelf life (of 8 years). Marty Lipton has no shelf life (nor even a "half-life"). Indeed, he is immortal, and is impervious to conventional weaponry (unlike, say, Paul Roth, who's weakness is said to be cotton candy).

So as you can see, all that Marty Lipton and Lipton Cup-a-Soup have in common is the name "Lipton." We do have it (on information and belief), that Marty Lipton did come up with a recipe for a mean southern maize (you call it corn) chowder (and we are currently trying to get our hands on the recipe) back in the early 90's when the M&A market was slowed by recession and Lipton found himself with some time to kill, but we question the veracity of this rumour given Lipton's purported hatred of all cereal grains.

Panda Joe

It’s no secret that Lipton’s M&A group is one of his firm's most lucrative practice areas (Herb Wachtell’s slip and fall practice group is a close second). We hear that the average partner at Lipton and Associates pulls in well north of $3.5 million a year. If that is what the average partner is bringing home, imagine how fat Lipton’s bankroll is! Though we haven’t audited Lipton’s bank account as of late, we’d guess that Marty has eight zeros on his paycheck (he isn’t getting paid in pesos either).

With that sort of disposable income, Lipton can afford virtually any luxury item his heart so desires. According to one spy, during the 80s, Lipton had a penchant for collecting rare and exotic animals. His collection supposedly includes a Bengal tiger, a mako shark, and a dozen flamingos. In 1987, when Lipton was unable to acquire a rare giant panda from a Beijing zoo, he hired Joe Flom to dress up in a panda suit for two weeks and live in a specially designed Panda habitat that Lipton built in his yard. That’s right, Marty Lipton brings home so much bacon that he can afford to pay Joe Flom (who at the time billed out a whopping $150 an hour) to wear a panda suit and live in Lipton’s yard for two weeks straight. That’s over $67,000 for a temporary panda. Joe Flom, who was nowhere close to his monthly billing quota, was happy to take the gig.

Lipton, always the consummate philanthropist, invited a group of underprivileged children to his home to watch the clumsy Flom play in a kiddie pool and consume massive quantities of bamboo. Though timid at first, Flom was coaxed from his den with a giant frozen treat consisting of apples, pears, and bamboo frozen in beet juice and water. Word around the campfire is that Lipton even allowed several children to ride the wild beast (Joe Flom).

If nothing else, this quaint anecdote shows that although Marty sure knows how to rake it in, he is not afraid to give a little back to those who are less fortunate (just to clarify, we are not referring to Joe Flom).

Mailbag

Since the launch of The Poison Pill, we’ve been getting quite a few questions from you, our loyal readers. If nothing else, this website has confirmed that we are not the only Marty Lipton devotees out there. While we value all your opinions and questions, unfortunately we can’t get to everyone. But if you keep asking, we’ll keep writing. Thanks.

Q: Is it true that there is a competing Joe Flom blog out there?

Bill
Pacoima, CA

A: We’re not sure Bill. It seems unlikely though. Who would actually be interested in Joe Flom? What could the blog’s author possibly write about? Its not as if Joe Flom invented the poison pill. If it does exist, it probably won’t be around for too much longer.

Q: My daughter was bitten by a vicious pitbull. Does Marty Lipton handle dog bite cases?

Lynne
Toledo, Ohio

A: Great question Lynne. Though we hear that WLRK has a terrific negligence department, Marty is a corporate attorney. Herb Wachtell on the other hand is a stupendous litigator. Maybe he will take the case.

Q: I am an insurance adjustor for a regional insurance company that underwrites grocery stores, chain restaurants, and strip clubs on Long Island. We like to pay between $125 and $175 an hour to the firms on our panel. Does Marty Lipton charge similar rates?

Glenn
Garden City, NY

A: Glenn, Marty may be a little out of your price range. Keep in mind that he is a corporate attorney. Herb Wachtell, however, may be able to help you. Herb, I think this is your lucky day!

Q: I am 1st Year law student at Pace University and am thinking of submitting my resume to WLRK. To be honest with you, I’m not sure it is the place for me. What sort of perks do they offer?

Ronald
White Plains, NY

A: In 1988, they converted the law library into a game room. It’s totally rad! In fact, they recently purchased a Galalga arcade game. Sweet! That’s not all. According to The Vault, they have a frozen yogurt machine. It's unclear, however, whether its attonreys have to pay for the frozen yogurt.

Q: Did Marty Lipton invent anything other than the poison pill?

Dwight
Buffalo Grove, Ill.

A: He invented casual weekends. This means that you can wear kakis and a polo shirt into the office on Saturday and Sunday.