As the crowds exited the Faire at the end of the day, the dwarf took a heavy metal rake and began loudly scraping it across the back of George’s neck. The dragon had his eyes half closed in bliss as contented little puffs of smoke emanated from his nose.
“Hey, I got your pay scroll,” said the elf walking up with two scrolls in his hand, while behind him two weasels in suits were walking toward the next attraction while they held a pile of more scrolls.
“Thanks, bud,” said the dwarf, reaching for his scroll as George opened his eyes and turned toward the dwarf with a ‘more?’ look.
The dwarf opened his scroll and laid it down on the ground as he picked up the rake and continued with a re-contented George.
“What, another tax?” cried the dwarf, looking at the fine print.
“Ah, yes,” replied the elf with a sigh, “another exercise tax by the prince.”
“Let him pay for his own Peloton!” snarled the dwarf.
“Boy, you don’t get much after you max out your 401K,” said the elf.
“401-what now?” asked the dwarf.
“401-K,” replied the elf. “You know, our retirement option.”
“Oh, right” said the dwarf, “I forgot about that. How’s that work again?”
“Every month,” began the elf, “you ask the weasels to set aside one, two, or up to ten coins. For the first three coins you set aside, the prince pledges to match with three coins from the treasury, or so the weasels assure me.”
“Who gets the coins?” wondered the dwarf.
“The 401 knights of the realm,” said the elf. “The coins are collected and distributed to the knights. Then when it comes time to retire, if you need coins, you simply ask a knight and they give you coins back.”
“Uh huh,” said the dwarf, “and you trust them — the knights?”
“If you can’t trust a knight…” began the elf.
“…then you can’t trust a knight,” the dwarf completed the sentence.
If I'd learned anything about how the world works it's that you absolutely can trust weasels with your financial affairs. That's just common sense!