A Day in the Life of Dr. Pennyworth
Dr. Pennyworth wakes up to his alarm clock. It’s one of those antique mechanical contraptions because the digital ones became too expensive when batteries started costing as much as a small car. He remembers buying it just yesterday for 50 Inflatos. By today, it’s a priceless heirloom.
Breakfast is a slice of bread that cost as much as a gourmet dinner used to. Pennyworth remembers the good ol’ days when avocados were just a hipster thing and not equivalent to a month’s rent.
Dr. Pennyworth fills his car’s tank with gas, handing over an entire suitcase of bills. A passerby looks on enviously, “Look at Mr. Richie Rich here, able to afford a half-tank!”
On the way to the hospital, he stops by the coffee shop. The barista, wearing a tuxedo for the upscale experience, says, “That’ll be 10,000 Inflatos for the espresso, sir. And would you like to tip?” Dr. Pennyworth considers giving a single Inflato as a tip, but decides against it — he doesn’t want to appear too flashy.
At the hospital, the receptionist informs him that his paycheck is ready. He collects three wheelbarrows full of Inflatos, a bi-hourly ritual. He’ll need to pick up another batch at lunch.
Dr. Pennyworth prescribes medication to a patient. “Take these pills twice a day. They’re a bit pricey. Roughly the cost of a small island, but don’t worry, by tomorrow they’ll be as cheap as a candy bar… which by then, will cost the same as a private jet.”
Lunchtime! The cafeteria menu lists today’s special: Instant Ramen for just 50,000 Inflatos. Dr. Pennyworth decides to splurge.
He attends a medical conference via Zoom. It’s on the “Effects of Hyperinflation on Blood Pressure.” The consensus? Everyone is high.
A medical rep pitches a new device. “It’s cutting-edge and costs only 5 million Inflatos!” By the end of the presentation, it’s 10 million.
At the end of his shift, Dr. Pennyworth’s wheelbarrows of cash have lost half their value. He decides to invest in something more stable: a collection of rubber ducks.
Grocery shopping time! Dr. Pennyworth buys a loaf of bread and two eggs. The total? Only a suitcase full of cash and a promise to name his first-born after the cashier.
Dr. Pennyworth settles down for dinner. He contemplates ordering a pizza but recalls that delivery fees now include the cost of the delivery guy’s retirement fund.
Before bed, he checks his bank account online, chuckling as the numbers look more like a high score on a video game than actual finances.
As Dr. Pennyworth drifts off to sleep, he dreams of a simpler time, when a candy bar cost more than a smile and less than a diamond, and when the term “millionaire” meant something other than ‘can afford a coffee’.
And so ends another day in the life of Dr. Pennyworth in the grand nation of Hyperinflatalandia. The next day? Well, that’s another story (and another couple billion Inflatos).