By Russell Morris

Angel awakens very early.
On the floor
At the foot of her bed
Lays The Beast.

She gets out of bed and takes a short walk.
At The Palace Gate she checks
The dookit.
“Oh looky here,
a letter for me.”
Angel whispers to herself.
And she hikes back to
The Palace of The Beast.
The sky has turned
a little dark and cloudy.

When she enters the kitchen
The Beast is awake too
and busy stirring up some kind
Of potion.

She opens the letter and reads it aloud:
You’ll never be successful
no one will ever understand
What you are saying.
Signed The Damned,
The Prince of Darkness.

“ Oh thank GOD
He didn’t go on and on
With that convoluted babel
About the money system built upon
The defective hoardable currency.”
says The Beast.

“ He just needs a dose of the antidote.” Angel says.

The Beast holds up the elixir he is making.
“Unhoardable Money with Demurrage.” he says.

He pours them both a cup of tea
and they go out to sit on the veranda.
The sun has just started breaking through the clouds.

“I wonder if Donald
reads this story to his son
Barron?
Just to make sure,
we should say something
about The Magical Incantation
that Silvio taught me.”
Angel sits,
just being with her breath for a few seconds
and then says,
“Hoardable money is
Antidisestablishmentarianism.
And that
Is not natural.
It is
Floccinaucinihilipilification.”

I think Donald
already knows this,
and that it makes
The Cash Mob Elite
very nervous.

But what about pinnochio the puppet?
Does she realize
that The USMCA will help
all countries in the world.
And that it will also help
the wandering immigrants.

The Beast and Angel
sit calmly
as they watch
the day get brighter.

“ShiBboLeTh” they say together.