“Do you know why you’re here today.”
“Yes.”
“Explain.”
“This is about last Monday, right?”
“It is about last Monday.”
“Ah. Yes, that’s why I’m here.”
“Go on.”
“Oh, I thought I was finished.”
“Explain to us what you did last Monday.”
“I had a bad morning, okay?”
“A bad morning.”
“Yes!”
“And that’s why you did it.”
“Yes.”
“Collapsed the global economy.”
“Yes…”
“Killed millions so far.”
“Uh…yes.”
“Must’ve been quite the bad morning.”
“Look, it was more than just the one morning, alright? EVERY morning was the worst morning I’d ever had!”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’d wake up and they’d be just, just STARING at me with their vacant little eyes. And their teeth! And their tongues! And that gormless half-smile and the the the…the…”
“Here.”
“Thanks. Sorry. Needed that.”
“It might have been helpful if you’d asked for help earlier.”
“I know.”
“Could’ve saved a lot of grief for everyone.”
“I know, I know.”
“Would you care to-”
“I KNOW, I KNOW, I KNOW. Okay! I fucked up!”
“That is the fastest way to describe what you have done. We would like something a little more complete.”
“I fucked up big time.”
“More, please.”
“Okay! Fine. Right, it all started with my grandmother.”
***
My grandmother was a reasonable woman. She raised my mother. She raised my uncle. She could pick up a ship under each arm well into her seventies.
But she had one weakness that we grandchildren suffered, and that was her love of these… things. These little…doodads.
Grandpa had loved them, she said. And when he died, they were how she remembered him. So every birthday we got her more. And more. And more. And more and more and more and more and
***
“Here.”
“Oh god thank you I needed that.”
“Yes you did. Keep talking.”
***
Right. So we got her these… things. And we hated them, especially at night – gad, the old lights in her house would flicker and their eyes would….would.
Anyways.
So we built up a tolerance. Of sorts. Mickey went mad and Sarah drowned herself, but the rest of us scraped through until she died when I was thirty-four.
And all of that was on my mind when I went back to work, which was when they were making the adjustments at the Treasury.
***
“You’d heard nothing of the plans beforehand.”
“No. No. I would have remembered that. At the time it seemed almost like fate. I’d just buried my grandmother, and my childhood was behind me. And…here it was in front of me. I thought I was free! Free! FREEEEEEEEEEEE-”
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
“You were saying?”
***
Now, the decision-making for all of this was so far above my pay grade that I got a nosebleed just thinking of it. But as far as I can remember, it went like this:
-no more fiat currency because so-and-so promised the so-and-sos that we were going to do it and such or something.
-so we needed a new representative currency.
-the gold standard was right out because you can actually use it for things.
-therefore, our new currency should be backed by a resource that is utterly useless.
And then they announced it, and then they said they needed people to staff the new vaults.
Like I said. It seemed like fate. And I could and did swear up and down on a stack of bibles and polygraphs and psych evaluations ten feet thick that I DEFINITELY had prior experience working with these sorts of materials.
So I started working in the vaults.
It was easy at first. Made lots of new friends. Told them all the story I just told you, with fewer ahahahahahaha little ‘moments’ of course, at the time it was all just a laugh ahahahahahahah no no I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine.
***
“Here.”
“Thank you thank you thank. You. What’s in these needles anyways?”
“It doesn’t matter. Go on.”
***
I worked there for sixteen years. Sixteen years and I watched the others come and go and I stayed and I sort of got promoted by inertia and I kept getting bigger offices.
It’s funny. The farther I actually got from the….things… the more I thought about them. They weighed on me like lead pants.
So I brought them into the office.
Look, it’s only treason if it isn’t the boss doing it, right? That’s how it works, right? So it was fine, right?
Besides, I didn’t want to steal them. They were the basis of our currency system but they gave me the creeps and I just wanted them where I could see them and swear at them and now and then I DID throw one of my drinks at them and I screamed a little but it was FINE. I had it UNDER CONTROL. ENTIRELY.
Can I please have the needle again
***
“No.”
“Why no?”
“Keep going.”
***
Asshole.
So this was the way it was for like six years and it was totally fine and I had it all under control and it was all my wife’s fault. She got me a big bottle for our anniversary and normally she got a smaller bottle and I ended up drinking the whole thing which meant I needed more of… them… to swear at than normal.
***
“By the way, how IS my wife?”
“Divorced.”
“Oh good, that’ll save a lot of explanations.”
“Continue.”
***
So I brought them all in. Piled ‘em on my desk like cordwood and stacked them into tippy towers as I drained my bottle. Then I took my last swig and the pile fell over and I lost it.
No, not the pile. My temper. I lost my temper. So I started yelling and I threw the bottle and I threw the pile and I got a little confused and uh.
Uh.
***
“Please can you give me the needle again.”
“Describe them.”
“What?”
“Describe the objects you were holding in your trust and you can have the needle. Your evasiveness is obnoxious.”
“Come on, we both know what I’m talking about when I talk about… things.”
“I’m waiting.”
“FINE! DOG STATUES. LITTLE STUPID CHINTZY TACKY HACKY DIME-A-DOLLAR-STORE GRANDMA’S-FAVOURITE UGLY CERAMIC DOG STATUES oh my god I can see the eyes the eyes the tongues the stupid blank grins the empty mouths the blocked throats and the seams, the ugly seams the ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
“Thank you.”
“I really really needed that listen are you SURE you can’t tell me what’s in this?”
“Pure uncut placebo.”
“Wow. Must be strong stuff.”
“You have no idea. Now keep talking.”
***
Okay so I’d just destroyed a few of – a lot of – all but one of the tacky little dog statues that my country’s currency was entirely backed by. And I knew I had to fix this immediately. And I was very drunk.
So I did the reasonable thing and drove my car into town with the last statue and I pulled over in the middle of the busiest intersection I could find and I held it up in the air and I yelled “WHO WANTS TO PLAY CATCH-THE-ENTIRE-ECONOMY?” and I threw it up in the air.
***
“Who caught it, by the way? I got trampled and couldn’t see.”
“Nobody. It was in continuous motion from one hand to another across the entire city for the next sixteen hours. That was what caused the initial twenty thousand casualties.”
“Oh. Jeez.”
“Now, after sixteen hours of that we had no choice but to bomb the city. The fallout’s keeping it safe from looters now – that and the barricade and the snipers – so for the time being nobody’s able to say our currency ISN’T backed by the lone and very radioactive little tacky ceramic dog statue on earth.”
“Oh. Good.”
“More pressing than the matter of securing the economy, we still need someone to blame for all this.”
“Oh. Bad.”
“And you did record a confession.”
“Oh. Dear.”
“But I think we can work out a suitable punishment – a nonlethal one. An amusingly appropriate one. A…managerial one. And one for which you’ve got quite a lot of experience.”
“Oh. No. Oh no oh no oh no oh no.”
“I mean, the city is just a larger vault at this point. It’s like fate, isn’t it?”
“Oh no oh no oh ahhhhhh. Thanks.”
“It’s not a problem. And tell you what: we’ll let you keep the needle.”