So, I'll tell you the story again.
Okay, I'm going to tell you the story again.
You want to hear it?
So, the point of this story is not about the Indian.
The point of this story is about the person who tells the story.
The man who dreamed it up dreamed that Indians were wild and free and could ride on horses without spurs, without a saddle, without anything, because they were one with nature.
Nature being the land, nature being animals, and nature being their own nature.
The man who dreamed the story was none of those things.
He was a banker, and he worked in a bank, and every day, people would come to his office and ask him for money.
And he would say no, unless they didn't need money, and then he would say yes.
And then the person who didn't need the money would say, I don't need the money, I just need the bank to tell me yes, in case I did need the money.
But sir, said the banker, in case you did need the money, we wouldn't give it to you.
One day, the man walked into his bank, and he had barely passed the threshold of the lobby.
When the door was kicked in, he was a class door, it wasn't hard to kick him in, and a wild man stepped through.
The wild man had a tattoo of a snake on his bicep, and he held in his hand a rifle.
And with the rifle stock, he hit the very fat security guard once in the solar plexus, and twice in the head, and then he pointed his gun at the man.
Everywhere in the bank, everyone was screaming and yelling, but the man was very calm, because he could see that the rifle was in fact a black powder musket.
There's no way it had been fired in at least a century and a half.
In fact, the man had a black powder musket, very much like this, hanging on the wall of a country house that he never went to.
But the man said nothing, he just calmly said,
Well, what do you want?
I want all of your money, and he said,
None of my money is here, it's in the bank.
I'm in the bank's money, you fool.
Well, the bank's money isn't here either.
It comes in a truck, and that truck hasn't arrived yet.
The wild man snarled.
Why would you want money?
Asked the banker.
You're wild and free.
You have everything you want, you are one with nature and one with yourself.
And the wild man said, you have no idea what you are talking about.
You are just a stupid banker.
And so, the banker shrugged.
He said, well, there's no money here, what do you think you're going to do?
I'm going to leave, and you're coming with me.
So, the banker walked out with the very wild man,
not realizing that the police had come.
You probably think there would be a lot of squad cars outside.
Their black and white vehicles was to red and blue, lights flashing.
But that's not what happened.
In fact, one squad car pulled up to the drive-thru,
very quietly got out and waited hidden behind the corner for the wild man
not to be paying attention.
And it happened that the wild man started fishing for the keys to his motorcycle.
At that moment, the policeman said, hey, bank robber, and the wild man looked at the policeman,
who then released the cables on his taser,
and the wild man was filled with electricity,
and he reached out a hand as he went down.
And he grabbed for the gray pinstripe pant leg,
the very expensive suit of the banker.
And...
Daddy, I want a drink.
You want the drink, buddy?
Drink's all gone.
Your drink's all gone?
Okay.
Hey, back in bed, you.
Back in bed, back in bed, back in bed, back in bed.
This time, listen.
You ready to listen?
Yeah.
Okay.
Take a look.
So...
Look.
So the man...
was being held hostage,
but he was barely to the motorcycle of the wild man.
When the policeman came,
and shocked the wild man with the taser,
and as the wild man went down,
he reached out,
and held the pant leg
of the banker.
And the banker felt 20,000 volts go through him
for a fleeting instant,
and passed out.
The next day, the bank was closed,
because they had to fix the door.
And so the banker had no place to work.
So he went to the regional headquarters,
and he walked in to see his boss,
the regional vice president,
who referred to the man by his name.
Hello, Mr. Branch Vice President.
I heard your bank was robbed yesterday.
It was not robbed yesterday.
A wild man came,
and broke my door,
and then pointed a 250-year-old gun at me,
and then the police indirectly shot me with 20,000 volts.
You seem upset by this.
I am a bit.
I wanted to dedicate my career to banking,
not die in the line of banking.
Well, surely we can make this right.
Would you like some money?
No.
Let me see.
I can't see.
That's what happened to him?
They cut his head off?
Yes, if you have anything,
because he gets bogged in there.
Good job.
Okay.
This is the last part of the story,
and then you have to go to sleep, okay?
So the last thing that happened
was the regional vice president
offered the banker some money.
And the banker refused to take any money.
He said,
every year I make a lot of money.
I have a lot of money,
and I expect that if I continue to work here,
you will not only give me some money
for almost getting killed yesterday,
but you will give me a lot more money
than that in the future.
You're right, said the regional vice president.
I can see that you want a lot of money.
Did you not hear what I just said?
I want the banker to the regional vice president.
I want the best years of my life back.
Can you give me the best years of my life back?
Well, said the regional vice president,
they say it's a time of money.
And of course, as a bank,
we have lots of money.
So tell me, what was the best year of your life?
Well, I didn't have it, said the banker.
When I was 25,
I started working here,
rather than being free.
And what would you have done
if you had been free?
I would have ridden a motorcycle.
Why didn't you?
I couldn't afford it.
The regional vice president then
reached out his hand
into the recessed alcove
of his oak panel desk
and pressed a button
that opened up a vault
that had been there the whole time,
although no one seemed to have noticed it.
And the regional vice president
and the banker
walked into the vault
and slit open a tray.
And in the tray
was a manila envelope
that the regional vice president pulled out
and handed to the banker.
Happy birthday.
And since it is your birthday,
you should have a birthday present.
Please accept with compliments of the bank.
This is Harley Davidson.
And so the banker took the keys
and slit open the manila envelope
which contained a birthday card that said,
Happy 25th birthday.
And for day,
the banker was one
with nature
and one with his own nature.
Okay, go to sleep.
Good boy.
Good night.
