And lo, it came to pass that while the man who had fallen among thieves still languished in his sick bed, hovering between life and death, The Good Samaritan sent in a bill for his services.
“Alas, I cannot pay this,” the man said, “for I am not yet well enough to work, and the thieves have robbed me of half my possessions.”
“That’s all right,” said The Good Samaritan, “I’ll settle for the other half.”
“But if I give you such of my wealth as remains,” said the man, “I will have nothing to hand down to my children, and they will surely starve.”
“Not my problem,” said The Good Samaritan. “It was your fault for allowing yourself to be mugged in the first place. You should know better than to try to walk between Jerusalem and Jericho. I happen to know the leader of the thieves very well, and if you’d only asked me beforehand, I would have arranged for him to take a mere quarter of your possessions, and you wouldn’t have had to suffer so much of a beating either.”
“I’m sorry, I did not know that,” said the man.
“That’s because you’re an arrogant fool,” said The Good Samaritan. “Now sign over the rest of your possessions to me, and be quick about it.”
And after saying these things, The Good Samaritan went down to the pub to have a drink with his friend the Chief Thief, and they laughed together about how they had between them taken the unfortunate victim for all that he had.
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