A Fair Trade

"I'm happy to see you today, Malcolm."

"You are?" says Malcolm, doubtful of such a thing.

"I am. It's true," says the man. "Where is it?"

"Sir?"

"You look at me as if a moron. Surely you are not as dumb as you appear. Where is my damn money."

"Yes. About that." He took out a fistful of bills.

The man snatched it from his hand and counted it.

"This is half, a little less even. Explain yourself."

Malcolm simpers. "I don't have it yet. I will. I swear it."

The man taps the stack of bills on his hand. "Alright. We still have a problem don't we? I can wait for the rest, but to let you go just like this. It makes me look bad, you see. Just bad."

"Sir. I-I-I..."

"Oh quit mumbling Malcolm. Ahh! I know!"

Malcolm looks at him.

"A finger."

Malcolm's eyes widen.

"You pick. We can take the smallest one if you like. A pinky for the delay."

"But I can't. I don't--"

"Don't be a coward. You came here with half of it. Did you expect to just leave here just like that?"

Malcolm looks at his hand, considers it. Shaking he holds out his left hand, pinky extended.