You're walking down the street and run into a homeless man.
Instead of asking for food or money, he simply says "May
I please have your soul?". Thinking the man is crazy,
you kindly say yes. He places his hand on your chest for a few
seconds, smiles, then walks away without another word. Its now
over a month later, your fiance left you, your parents stopped
calling, you lost your job and your dog ran away. In a matter of
weeks you'll be kicked out of your apartment and then be on
the street. Realizing this all happened after the old him
"took your soul", you run back to where you met him
last. He's sitting there on the street corner, watching the
cars ride by. Running up to him you begin to shout "SIR,
SIR, PLEASE GIVE ME BACK MY SOUL, PLEASE". You're
now in front of him on your knees, begging for your soul. The man
simply wiggles his finger at you, shakes his head and holds out
his hand. In his palm is two quarters, a dime and two pennies.
Sixty-two cents. You realize what has happened. Your soul is now
in possession of the flying dutchman.