It was a dark and stormy night. I had left work a little early that night. Usually I hang around in the evenings, playing SpaceMail -- you know, that game where you have to deliver a sackload of mail to colonists on several planets, without getting hit by asteroids, melted by the sun, or caught on the radar screen of your arch rivals, IPS (Intergalactic Parcel Service).

But I had finally decided that I couldn't put off minding my finances any more. I had bought that new software package, Sicken, which analyzes your current financial condition and lets you know just how much danger you're in of spending your golden years inside a cardboard box by the side of the highway. Without going into any details, let's just say that I needed to make some changes in my life.

My plan was to attend one of those famous seminars for Future Financial Freedom Today! ("FFFT!") They were led by a "Mr. Mo," who bragged in his brochure that he had been written about in Forbes, Newsweek, and Mother Jones. He also explained that instead of taking a long and arduous path to prosperity, he would explain how to build an enormous nest egg in six easy weeks. So I headed on over to my local Motel 6, where the seminar was being held.

Upon arriving and signing in at a table covered with a frilly tablecloth, I sat near the front of the room, in a folding chair. In a few minutes, Mr. Mo appeared and I was surprised to discover that polyester leisure suits were still being made and sold. (He hadn't removed the "Half-price! $19.99!" tag from one of his sleeves.)

"Welcome, friends!" he cried. "Are you worried about how you're going to afford to retire?"

We all nodded.

"Are you worried about how you'll put your kids through school, or pay for that cosmetic surgery you've always wanted?"

We nodded again. I myself nodded vigorously, as he had incredibly touched a nerve. I had always dreamed of having a chin job.

"Well, this isn't going to be one of those long and complicated seminars. You're not even going to have to buy any real estate!"

An audible sigh of relief was breathed by our small crowd.

"All you have to do is buy into this one remarkable company that no one has heard of yet. It's called Hot Stuff Pyrotechnics [NASDAQ: OUCH] -- a fireworks company. It's small now, but I swear, it's gonna be big!"

I was impressed. Not many financial prognosticators bothered to swear. Mr. Mo was clearly very convinced about the bright expectations he held for this company. And who doesn't like fireworks? I did note, though, that when he spread his arms wide to show us exactly how big Hot Stuff was going to become, he seemed to be wearing some kind of funny undershirt. It appeared to be black.

He continued talking, but started pacing back and forth across the room faster and faster. "Itwastradingat$10persharelastweek," he breathlessly spoke. "Andit'salreadyat$25!" He gasped for air at this point. "It'sgrowingliketulips! Inayearit'llbehuge!!"

Someone raised a hand and asked him to slow down.

"Okay, people. What you've gotta do is buy a lot of this stock, and buy it now. I bet some of you are saying to yourselves, "But Mr. Mo -- I don't have the money to buy any shares -- that's why I'm here." He waved his arm wildly, in some kind of strange gesture, and that's when a shirt button popped and I saw little yellow lightning bolts on his undershirt.

"Folks, you can all buy into this stock. You know how? With this!" He waved a handful of credit cards. "Charge it!" Think about it, people... you can charge thousands of dollars on these cards -- you can make them out to me, if you want, and then we'll invest the money in Hot Stuff. Imagine -- you charge $10,000 on a few cards, and then watch it grow like weeds over the years!"

Just then, the loud wood panel doors to the room swung wide open. And in walked Motley Fool.

"Hey!" Objected Mr. Mo.

"Everybody -- please do not listen to this polyjester. He's not even Mr. Mo -- he's none other than Mo-Mental!" Motley then carefully unbuttoned Mo-Mental's shirt, revealing his famous spandex outfit.

The crowd gasped. (We were now a crowd, as several people looking for the motel's swimming pool had wandered in and joined us.)

Motley continued. "He said he was in Forbes and Newsweek, right?"

"And Mother Jones!" someone added.

"Well, he was in them, alright -- exposed as a fraud! Just think about what he's proposing. What's wrong with investing via a credit card?"

We were stumped.

What was the explanation Motley offered?

1) High interest rates on credit cards will very adversely affect your returns.

2) A full house beats a flush.

3) Taking on too many credit cards can disfigure your wallet pocket.

4) It takes a lot of time to fill out all those credit card applications.

The answer is:

1) High interest rates on credit cards will very adversely affect your returns.

Motley Fool explained that credit cards usually have very high interest rates, often 16-21%, and that while your investments might increase in value, these rates will definitely drag down any returns. Plus, there's a decent chance that your investments might go south for a while -- or for eternity, in the case of any companies promoted by the likes of Mo-Mental. After all, are Fourth of July celebrations going to be held more than once a year in the future, to result in the exponential growth of Hot Stuff? If your investments lose their value, you will lose even more, as you'll still be paying $1,600 to $2,100 per year on the $10,000 you charged. Yikes!

You can read more about how important it is to settle your credit card debt and other financial obligations in Step 2 of the 13 Steps to Investing Foolishly.

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