![]() ![]() ![]() I walk solemnly to the mailbox and deposit our claim on the future. And for the last selection, something that maybe has my Star Wars Monkey, Chewy, in it: Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine. I am proud of Papa's new car, a bulbous 1977 Chevrolet Malibu Classic with only seven million miles on the odometer, but it is time to get acquainted with the finer autos, so I order Car and Motor, Motor and Driver, Carburetor and Driver, Muffler and Owner. First we must acclimate to our new wealth, expand our literacy. First we must fill out the winner's form and select five national magazines that will be sent to us free, or at least the first issue of each will be free, and then the Americans will likely send us the rest of the money. Yes, we have already won the ten million dollars, no disputing that, but a panel of judges still has to award the money to us. If we take the ten-million-dollar check to the bank tomorrow, how long before we can buy a new air conditioner? Wait, it says here that. We sit down and, using our collective four-hundred-word English vocabulary, begin to unravel the many documents before us. " "You said the kids at school have houses like this?" "No, Papa, this one, ours, will be bigger!" ![]() How many bedrooms does this house have?" "Seven, eight, nine. "Oy, does it have to be a Mercedes? Tphoo, Nazis." "Don't worry, we can trade for a Cadillac." " Bozhe moi. " Bozhe moi," my mother says, my God, as we look at the pictures of a Mercedes flying off the deck of our yacht toward our new mansion with an Olympian swimming pool. For two years we have been good new citizens, watching X-rated movies, getting jobs as engineers and clerk-typists (my mother's pianist's fingers will finally be put to meaningful use), learning to Pledge Allegiance to the Flag of the United States of American, And For the Something For Which That It Stands, Unavoidable, With Money For All. Let us see what we have here.Īround the glowing surface of the orange dining table imported from Romania we spread the contents of the voluminous packet. "Do you want an asthma attack?" But he is nervous and excited himself. "Mama, Papa, we won! We won! My millionery!" We are millionaires! ![]() I run down the stairs into the courtyard of our apartment complex. ![]()
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