The Treasury guys are going to come by today.
“Sorry fellas, I’m out of the game. Haven’t forged a note in 5 years,” you tell them.
That’s the truth. You got out but only because you didn’t need to stay in. Your last batch produced the finest notes you’ve ever printed, your masterpiece, and there’s about $18 million of it hidden under the floorboards that the agents are standing on.
“We know,” they say. “We know you’re out of the game. We were wondering if you could tell us about someone who just got back in?”
You don’t like their tone. You realize you’ve never seen these two before.
“Identification,” you say.
“We showed you—“
“I wanna see it again.”
They hold up their ID’s. You look more closely.
“You’re with the Mint,” you say.
They ask you to take a seat. Then they open up the metal case they were carrying and invite you to inspect its contents.
On first glance you can tell it’s a fake, it’s just a sense, but you can’t find the flaws. Not even with your loupe. You study its grain, its seal, its perfect arrangement of elements.
“This is the most flawless forgery of a 2011 Ten-Year Commemorative Twin Tower 9/11 Plate Featuring Barack Obama And George W Bush With Their Arms Joined Around The Shoulders Of A Firefighter that I’ve ever seen!” you exclaim.
“And we’re betting you know who forged it,” one of the Mint guys says.
“Had to be someone inside,” you say. “Had to have access.”
“It wasn’t someone with access,” he says. “You know it wasn’t.”
You get a sinking feeling in your gut. He said he would get out when you got out. He promised he’d never print another. You gave him more than enough to cover him for two lifetimes. He promised you he’d go straight.
“Heard from your son recently?” the Mint guy asks.
Happy You’re The Greatest Counterfeiter In The World Day!
