I imagine. Being the world’s greatest counterfeiter. Running
perfect twenty dollar bills. Off my flawless printing press. No way. Can my counterfeits be distinguished
from the real ones. No matter how thorough the examination. I’m truthful. I
tell everyone. Even the government inspectors. These are counterfeits. These
aren’t real. They’re fake. And every time. The assumption is the same. That I’m
kidding. Joking. When really. I’m serious. I’m the world’s best counterfeiter. I
declare. Believe me. Believe me. But nobody believes that I’m the best. At my illegal
craft. --Jim Broede
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