Bringing Down the House

Everybody looks to the wrong places to explain inflation these days. I know because I am the cause. I’m a master counterfeiter.

And I love shaking the globe.

I’m pretty crafty. I know how not to attract attention to myself. If it were C-notes I were dropping left and right, someone would’ve caught on by now, of course. Same with fifties, twenties, tens, and fives. If I made ones, even, someone would have smelled something after a while; Mr. 880 comes to mind when someone mentions counterfeiting the petty bills.

But I don’t deal in bills. I deal in coins.

Nobody thinks twice, and the way I do it, even the machines are duped. Using my secret arts I dump millions into the economy, handwaved into existence. Poof! There it is.

I even leave the change in place of items I boost from houses late at night, while people are asleep, and nobody suspects a thing. It’s gotten to the point where everybody expects me. They talk about it a lot, too.

I’m famous.

Take it from me: Being the Tooth Fairy rocks.

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