"What, indeed, is money?" I asked.
She flipped her long auburn hair with the casual elegance of a spider walking among snakes, and began to speak.
"Currency is a system that man has devised in order to give his efforts-- which you and I understand are ultimately meaningless on the astral scale, but the thrashing of a fly whose legs have yet to be torn off--"
(I recalled that like the dinosaurs, humanity would eventually be destroyed by some mundane natural occurrence like a meteor: we were too insiginificant for gods to take notice of.)
"--value. The wealth number, such as it is, can be increased by work and decreased in exchange for goods and services, like our morning tea and the maid who brings it to us."
And indeed, the frills she wore. I understood this concept. It was like the use of male reproductive liquids in the magical world. In a corner of my mind, I began a series of calculations that would eventually result in my magical wealth number.
"A box set of the Japanese animated feature film series Kara no Kyoukai on Blu-Ray Disc will cost the big brothers in America four hundred of their dollar-bills. Each film would cost fifty of these strange paper strips."
This is more than the typical American big brother pays for a motion picture recorded onto any sort of discus, and many are concerned that there will be no papers left for them to ward off demons with. In Japan, 100,000 big brothers paid even more yen-coins for their discs, but as they view the discs less as a practical item than as religious offerings of an odd sort, they are pleased."
I'd made up my mind. I had to ask her.
A hint of joy was mixed with her disdain.
"I want to buy Kara no Kyoukai. Is there a way to exchange my semen for some of these dollar-bills?"
She paused, blushing.
"That is possible."