There were once mysterious cars ordinary people unknowingly glimpsed that were so prized that only the very richest could buy them.
So sought after were they, that each was exchanged for the price of a thousand houses.
You see, for the wealthiest who could attain any worldly possession, the feeling that a new dress or watch once gave, could now only come from one of the strange cars.
No one could say if it was for the simple prestige or the triumph of obtaining what an arch rival craved, all they knew for certain was the astonishing feeling it gave.
Little did they know in a strange and wonderful land high above the clouds where lost balloons go, lived a 300 year old bespectacled giant with silky white hair who worked day and night to make the precious cars. Well, that’s not entirely true. Yes, he made cars but more particularly he made machines with feelings.
You see the land of clouds where he lived was the same place all fleeting feelings go when they float away. And it’s from those feelings the mysterious giant mixed a potent ink into a giant pen to paint the mysterious cars.
For one car, he painted superiority. For another, satisfaction. For another, elation. Each owner would receive the feeling they craved.
But soon all they desired were the cars. Desperately, the very richest offered all they had for just one more car. In return for their remaining wealth, the giant made a final one for each person.
And having no wealth but having the amazing cars the once rich but now very ordinary people, were happy.