A slick, frequently funny guide to the games people play on Wall Street, featuring, in the role of arch-vulture, Ephraim Rader, super conglomerater who ""made paper cartons, ran an auto rental agency, packed meat, and was the foremost manufacturer of Little League uniforms."" Rader is going after Frank Pidgeon and a number of other more or less hapless Target companies all characterized by depressed growth rates, solid assets, unimaginative management and ""misguided corporate democracy."" The aim of the game is the shotgun marriage or merger. The rules are flexible (anything you can get away with) with a special preference for rigged stockholders' meetings (move it from New York to Wilmington, Delaware, ""you can hardly get there from anywhere""), the accumulation of shares through Street names, ""that way no one will suspect that a stock accumulation is taking place,"" and, ever popular, industrial espionage, ""a little judicious wiretapping. . . this is guaranteed to shake them to the balls of their feet."" The motives, on the other hand, are simple: filthy lucre and ""an advanced state of egomania."" In between the emergency board meetings there is a guide to semantics for the swinging executive or how to shore up a corporate image formed in the Coolidge era. Free-form management is in, so are environment quality programs. (""He landscapes his factories, tints the effluence a refreshingly, blending turquoise. . . ."") The author is a senior vice-president of public relations for a leading Wall Street firm, and he should know. It could be a very catchy item.