The Encyclopaedia of Avarice indeed! The inside was a long hallway, seeming to stretch out all the way to the end of the building. But even more intriguing than the size of the place were the items inside!
Strewn on tables and in glass cabinets, mounted on the walls and ceiling, or even straight on the floor, there were hundreds, maybe even yet thousands, of objects. Each of them labelled and with an inventory number.
Right in front of the entrance was a massive golden chandelier with crystals, hanging from the ceiling. Its label said "Gilded chandelier, circa XIXth century France" and underneath it was a short description "It is believed to have belonged to the royal family, then donated to St Paul's Cathedral. A clear indication that religion, though it teaches humility, is no stranger to opulence." I raised my eyebrows. Such blasphemous ideas! Should't museums, like newspapers, be impartial?
I turned towards the other display opposite the chandelier. This was a shiny new convertible sports car. I had heard before people talking about that coveted "new car smell". My curiosity pushed me closer. It did smell like "new car smell"! It must have been it, even though I had never been in a new car before to know its smell. The label read "BMW M6 convertible car, circa XXIst century Romania". The description explained "Belonged to the youngest child of one of the wealthiest barons in Romania, was donated to the museum after only a few months after the spoiled child allegedly got bored with it and demanded a newer model." I imagined the boy stomping his foot yelling at his Papa to get him a new car, like his friend Billy has, the latest and greatest. Hehe.
I kept going, looking left and right, craning my neck towards the ceiling, looking at expensive paintings, furniture, jewellery, every kind of object anyone would find desirable.
I could go on forever about what I saw in the museum. But what I was most intrigued by were the labels, which seemed almost moralising. Did I feel compelled to take any item? Some were really appealing, but my sense of decency told me to not even touch anything. There was nobody around, but I bet there were some hidden surveillance cameras strewn about.
The museum was oddly mesmerising, and I carelessly wandered about, taking my time examining each object and reading its label, until BANG! BANG! BANG! the grandfather clock near me suddenly and very loudly announced the hour. I jumped startled and accidentally swept a small porcelain figurine off a table and down it went on the floor, crashing into dozens of pieces. I gasped and frantically scrambled to pick up the shards, remembering the warning on the front door "You break it, you buy it".
"Stop right there!" a shrill voice yelled from behind me.
