A man sat in a broken home. A home torn by war. The third World War. He sat there knowing that most of his people had died. He sat there and saw humanity’s final moments, before the abyss, devoured them all. So, he there he sat, not doing anything. Although, strongly witted, the man was very lazy and greedy. Pain crept through the halls of his house. His home, emotionally destroyed through what God had wrought was a very large mansion. A mansion, big and beautiful on the inside, but cold with death on the outside. So cold, that even in the summer, ice sickles clung onto the window palings. The Man wishes for world peace, so the war would end and he had theorologically, enough money to pay to accomplish the feat, but he wanted it at a reasonable price. As greed crept across the man’s mind, he turned in his king sized bed. Dreams of money and progress, swept across his mind. He slept for hours and was not disturbed. Until, a very fright stricken diplomat, approached his bed, in distress. “George”, says the Diplomat. “What do you ask of me?”, says The Man. “George…we can end the war and bring about world peace. That is…if you give me a bond of one million dollars. May I borrow a bond worth one million dollars…Mr. President?”, says The Diplomat. “Well, I can’t say”, says The Man. “Although, I do in fact have enough money to give you that bond and more….one million dollars, seems too high a price. I like your idea and all, but come back later when you can negogate for a lower number”, says The Man. “But, George…”, says The Diplomat. “Come back when the price is dropped down”, says The Man, interrupting, The Diplomat. “But, I…”, says The Diplomat. “Leave…Charlie”, says The man, once again interrupting, The Diplomat. The Diplomat then left the room and the man…alone in despair, and as did The Diplomat, so did humanity. The Man’s greed, killed the world as the world fell into an abyss. In this abyss, currency does not exist.
The Problem, The Man and The Diplomat
October 22, 2009