Loser's Guide to Life
“This—fiscal '05! Much, much money! Yes!” He frowns and mimes picking up two handfuls of grain. “But here—not much money!”
We all chortle amiably and some of us let out squeals of sudden comprehension.
At the end of the meeting we rush forward, pick him up in his chair and raise him to our shoulders. Children laugh and young women pelt him with blossoms as the elders look on indulgently. We bear him through the village to great jubilation. Then we throw him into a volcano.