My finances are so dead

Gabriel Iglesias Fluffy gets to embrace his love of cake and turn it into an arena tour. Meanwhile, my finances are so dead, you can call me “Flatline.” I don’t get cake—I get government pi. And there’s no “e” at the end of that, baby. I’m talking pure, uncut budget cuts. My local library downgraded from books to a guy named Dave who vaguely remembers how most stories end. My tax refund showed up as a coupon for municipal tap water. I applied for food stamps, and the government emailed back: “Have you considered photosynthesis?” At this point, my savings account has an amber alert. My credit score is being studied by archaeologists. And when I check my bank balance, the app doesn’t show a number—it just plays Sarah McLachlan.