So as the attendants are now trying to break down the door to get at me while simultaneously trying to calm the other inmates who have come out of their rooms to see what all the ruckus is about, I grab the calculator and quickly clear out the old numbers. With a haste born of fear, I divide Mr. Noland's $1.927 trillion by the 130 million of us that have jobs, and I get the incredible number that $14,823.08 per worker was borrowed and spent per year!
As I later told the intake officer as I struggled to breath while tightly strapped into this straight jacket, I seem to remember running down the street screaming "The economy is shrinking! The economy is shrinking!" although I could not explain why crime-scene photos show me wearing nothing but an Attend adult diaper and a pair of ladies red stiletto high heel shoes. But that is not important, and I am trying to get them to focus, focus, focus, instead on the fact that I was heroically trying to hold back the Demons of Destruction with a machine gun that I, you know, just happened to see lying around the house, although I have no idea whose it is, or how it got in my house, and I cannot explain why there are nobody else's fingerprints on it but mine. But I figured it was worth a try to take that mysterious machinegun and attempt to heroically fight the raging monetary demons that were swirling around us, instead of taking it directly to the police station to turn it in like any law-abiding citizen would do, and which I was going to do later. And I seem to recall that sirens were wailing, as through a fog, and there were these flashing red and blue lights everywhere, and people were shouting, and there were voices in my head commanding me to consume delicious chocolate confections, especially the kind with nuts, and how everything was spinning, spinning, spinning.
