A short story.

The Global Financial Crisis
Graham was in a hurry. He pulled his coat tight around his shoulders, protecting himself from the winter chill. Quickly, he marched down the main street but before he knew it, he had been stopped. “Excuse me, sir!” said a short, squat man in a tight fitting jester outfit. Graham was not impressed. He continued walking, muttering, “I’m in a rush, I’m not interested.” Suddenly the jester was in front of him again. “Sir! Do you love bargains?” asked the jester. His eyes were open wide, waiting for a response. Graham halted a moment, he thought about the question. “Well, yes. I suppose I do love bargains. But I’m in a hurry.” The jester jumped up and down excitedly. “I knew it!” he called, “You look like a man who loves bargains. I sure can pick ‘em!” Graham tried to continue walking, but the jester was tugging on his sleeve. “Sir, sir!” said the jester. “Yes?” Graham asked. “Quick, this way, it’s Mad Monday at the Llama Barn. Lots of bargains sir, everything half price!” said the jester, barely pausing to take a breath. Now wait a minute, Graham thought to himself, this sounded promising. He loved the Llama Barn. “Oh, I didn’t realise you were from the Llama Barn” he murmured, his eyes lighting up, “I love the Llama Barn. Half price you say?” The jester seemed a little downbeat now. “Yep, half price. Everything. It’s Mad Monday.” Graham started walking back in the direction he had come from. “Well, maybe I’ll take a look” he said. The Llama Barn sold everything, from novelty thongs to imitation fruit. Graham entered the shop and picked up a mug. It had the words “Ken’s Mug” embroidered on the side. Ken would love this, thought Graham. “I’ll take this, please”, Graham said, presenting the mug. The jester grimaced and pointed at a small sign on the shop front. It read "Mad Monday. Everything half price." Graham squinted. In tiny writing below this sign was a smaller sign. It read "except mugs." Well, thought Graham, this doesn’t seem very mad at all. The jester said, “We have to have a modicum of sanity, you know.” Graham looked surprised. “How did you know what I was thinking?” he asked. Then, the jester vanished in a puff of confetti. A high pitched voice whistled past Graham’s right ear. “I can read minds” it said. Immediately, Graham tapped his breast pocket. His wallet was gone. Graham was getting sick of this. It was the third time this week he had been duped by a street jester while trying to buy Ken a mug.