The Bully Clown and the Silly Villagers

Once upon a time, there was a clown who lived in a big golden tent at the edge of a busy village.

Every few days, the clown would run into the village square, honking his horn, screaming: "I'm going to take your apples! All of them! Maybe I'll burn down your orchards too! You'll find out!"

The villagers would panic. They'd sell their apples for pennies. They'd cry and point at the sky. "The apples! The apples!"

Then, a few hours later, the clown would return, smiling, waving a blank piece of paper.

"Great news, everyone! I've reached a... a frame... a framey-work..." He squinted at the paper. "A FRAMEWORK of whatever with the guy who runs the bakery next door. Tremendous. Beautiful. He's a great guy. We talked for five minutes. Maybe ten. The best minutes."

The villagers looked confused. "But... what about our apples?"

The clown puffed out his chest. "I have the concept of an apple. A beautiful concept. The most beautiful concept you've ever seen. You'll be hearing about it in the not-too-distant future. Trust me."

The villagers cheered. They bought back their apples—now at double the price. "The clown saved us! He has a concept! And a framey-work!"

This happened every week.

One old farmer sat on his porch, watching. He kept his apples in a cold cellar. He didn't sell when the clown screamed. He didn't buy when the clown smiled.

The other villagers called him boring. "You're missing the apple boom!" they said.

The old farmer shrugged. "I don't trade real apples for concepts of apples. And I don't know what a 'framey-work of whatever' is, but I'm pretty sure it's not a thing."

The End.