(trans)action

A man who had stopped breathing long ago said to no one in particular, “I’d sell both lungs to be able to breathe again.”

In a puff of smoke, the devil appeared on the spot.

“Do these lungs work?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t you breathing?”

“It has nothing to do with my lungs, if your implying I’m trying to rook you somehow.”

“OK. Fine. I’ll take you up on your offer,” said the Devil. “You give me your lungs and I’ll make you able to breathe again.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not asking for a trade.”

“A what?”

“I said ‘I’d sell both lungs to be able to breathe again.’ I didn’t mention anything about a trading you my lungs for your ability to make me breathe again,” said the man. “What you’re offering is an entirely different transaction.”

Having an appointment he was already late for, the Devil said, “I don’t need this. I don’t really need another set of lungs anyway” and vanished in a puff of smoke.

Later that afternoon, the man, who had also stopped eating long ago, said to no one in particular, “I’d sell my mouth to be able to eat again.”

This time the devil stayed away.

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