The Republic of Georgia rang with satisfied chuckles yesterday as subsistence farmer Tomas Havlicek, in an act of karmic retribution of some kind, lost of his possessions in a big fire.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” said Havlicek’s neighbor Boris Pulaski. “Guys like Tomas, they think they can just go on forever, scraping a living out of the unforgiving Georgian soil, feeding their nine children. But it always catches up with you in the end.”

“Tom’s been asking for it for years,” said village elder Eduard Shevardnadze. “He does this thing where he rotates his crops every season. It keeps the soil supplied with nutrients. What a tool.”

“Boy,” said Havlicek, watching the flames consume his maize. “I sure have learned my lesson. I’ll think twice before I try selling locally produced goods at the market next time.” Havlicek then embarked on his new career as a goatherd, prompting predictions that a giant meteor will inevitably vaporize his children.

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