Vitalik, Hayden, and Justin Drake, each with their unique quirks and worldviews, found themselves on a seemingly ordinary sidewalk on a day not unlike any other. There, with its notable green hue and the profile of a distinguished individual stamped on its front, lay a $100 bill. The very essence of capitalism underfoot.
Vitalik, with his characteristic blend of idealism and pragmatism, declared, “We could channel this serendipitous find into infrastructure, perhaps something altruistic, something public.” Hayden, always the pragmatic, nodded, the weight of agreement evident in his gesture, “This accidental fortune can be purposeful.”
Now, Justin Drake, ever the provocateur with a penchant for the theatrical, requested the bill, only to juxtapose the sight of an unassuming homeless individual a mere 50 yards away — a poignant emblem of society’s dichotomies. He approached, then with a swift, unexpected flourish, ignited the bill. The flames, symbolic and literal, danced and licked the air, rendering the currency useless. Both Vitalik and Hayden wore expressions of befuddlement that mirrored that of the homeless man.
The bill’s demise, Drake postulated, made the meager earnings of the homeless man somewhat more valuable, in the intricate dance of economics and supply. The man, his brow furrowed in contemplation, questioned the gesture’s utility. To which Drake, channeling a mix of philosophical rationale and casual indifference, responded, “It was never within your realm to claim.”
With an ironic appreciation, the man quipped about the newfound perceived value of his modest savings. Vitalik, in a peculiar display of affirmation, clapped — a rhythmic, idiosyncratic clap that was distinctly him.
But as narratives go, the tale took a somber turn. The man, despite his fleeting moment of insight into economic theory, succumbed to the unforgiving reality of hunger.