How Much for the Tractor?
“How much for the tractor?” Robby asked.
Jed made a show of calculating. “Let’s say six grand.”
“I’ll give you four.”
“5500 then.”
“I’ll give you five grand if you also throw in your old picnic table. You don’t use it anymore anyway.”
“Fine, I’ll give you the tractor and the picnic table for five grand and your push mower.”
“What? That push mower is still pretty good. But okay . . . if I can kiss your sister—”
“What!”
“Hug! Hug your sister.”
“That’s not up to me . . .”
“Just don’t beat me up if I do.”
“Fine. But in that case . . .”
<20 minutes later>
“Okay,” Robby said. “So I get the tractor, the picnic table, a hug from your sister, three steaks cooked medium rare, a hundred shares of stock in your son’s future company, and an invitation to your Christmas party and I’ll give you five grand, the push mower, a load of gravel, a set of wind-chimes made out of coral, and you can be best man at my wedding. Sound fair?”
“Sure. Can you pay in cash?”
“I don’t have that much right now, but here’s what I can offer you . . .”
The Green-Walled Tower 