Far, far away, in the folds not noticed by cartographers of the Western Spiral Sleeve of the Galaxy, which had long gone out of fashion, a tiny yellow star was lost to nobody.

Around it, at a distance of approximately ninety-eight million miles, an insignificant green-blue planet is drawn, the inhabitants of which are still very similar to their monkey ancestors - suffice it to say that their electronic watches are still considered to be a miracle of technology.

This planet has - or rather, had - one problem: most of the people living on it only did what they suffered, because they did not find happiness in life. Many decisions were born, but almost all of them came down to the redistribution of small green scraps of paper - which in itself is very strange, since someone did not experience any suffering, because the small green scraps of paper did not seek happiness.

There was no solution, and the planet was filled with embittered people, for most of whom the feeling of unhappiness was constant, and even the electronic clock did not brighten their life.

Gradually spread and strengthened the belief that all the misfortunes came from the way people descended from trees to the ground. And some even thought that the mistake had been made even earlier - there was nothing to communicate with the trees, and there was no reason to get out of the ocean.

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