The art of the deal

I bet you’d like my apple juice? I’m sure we can arrive at a mutually acceptable deal. How can you possibly say no to an aspiring capitalist who is finally freed from the bonds of sisterly sharing? Gone are my obligations to offer my sippy cup to Izzie, receiving nothing in return. Now I’m ready to bask in the glory of globalization. I’m ready to be driven by the spirit of entrepreneurship, aided by a thousand-watt smile that can seal any potential deal. If you want my apple juice, it won’t come cheap. It might just cost you a cookie and a cheese stick, and that is before interest. And you don’t want to meet my enforcer. She may look like a silly, little golden retriever, but the last thing you want is to have her enforce my terms.