
What would I do if the economy crashed even further and my bosses could no longer afford to pay my bills? What would I do if I bounced my next rent check and the grocery store trip I took last Friday was the last one I had money for? What if my friends could no longer afford their rent either? Would six of us have to live in my two-room studio, with no money to do laundry? Could we string laundry lines from our windows to our neighbors? Would the only growing business in a downward spiraling economy be the erupting laundry pin enterprises?
What would I do if I no longer could afford toothpaste or soap or wax for my upper lip? What would I do if the government made me wear a newsboy hat and my fingernails had ink under them from trying to sell their propaganda for quarters on street corners? Would I learn to sing for change or tie tin cans to my shoes and do a little jig for a two-day-old loaf of bread? Would that jig eventually become so popular, bums and vagrants and gypsies would gather around fires in the moonlight and do the “two-day-old loaf of bread” jig?What will you do?

Well. I will be dancing right next to you, or rather, banging spoons together three feet behind you for added effect. There probably won't be any spoons; I'll have to use rocks.
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