A Promising Start

Dressed in the style of the old country, you tighten the laces of your shirt and set off in the direction of the mountain village. You arrive in about an hour and marvel at how much it looks like your uncle's old postcards from Prague. You see a few supply stores here and there, and you meekly slip inside the first of them.

You immediately make eye contact with an old, grizzled man. He stares ahead, presumably waiting for you to speak. You mumble a friendly greeting in the local vernacular.

"Not bad," he replies, "but why don't you just speak English?"

Amazed that he speaks your native language perfectly, you gape. "I take it that you're not from around here!" you stammer, a puzzled smile across your face.

"Of course I am," he replies, "but isolationism won't put food on my table. We villagers have abandoned the conservatism and superstition of the past. We still aren't eager to host tourists, but if you're here to stay, you'll have no trouble making an honest living."

You think to yourself that this is almost too easy: a rural village in Eastern Europe where everyone speaks English and favours science over superstition. Your only regret is that you forgot to bring a bottle of Worcestershire sauce.

Written by Joey Liverwurst

You may need to hold that thought.

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