"You don't believe me, do you?" said the woman to me, "Well suit yourself. But remember, I have to obey the laws of the land, and there are laws against false advertising. I wouldn't be able to sell flavoured truth if it didn't work."

Gena produced a twenty cent piece.

"I'll take a bottle," she said, "Chocolate flavour."

"Gena! Don't be stupid!" I whispered

Gena looked determined.

"Oh well, I suppose its only twenty cents."

We walked from the shop with mixed feelings. Gena was elated, and positively exited about her purchase. I was entirely the opposite, skeptical and disappointed.

"You could have bought a mixture," I grumbled.

"I don't care," she said, "It was my money. I can spend it on whatever I like."

We got back to the car before Mum did and started to wait for her.

"Wouldn't it be amazing," Gena said, "If everyone was honest!"

"How do you mean?"

"Well," she said, "You could go into a bank and ask for some money. You wouldn't need to fill in forms, or have the money hidden away in a safe somewhere. Your money would be in a little pile on a shelf, with your name on it, and no-one would ever steal it."

"There wouldn't be security guards either," I added, "Or locks on doors, or surveillance cameras."

"And no police, or army, or navy . . ." said Gena, "Because all the countries in the world would trust all the other countries ..."

"Far out!" I said, "That would be like Noddyland, without a Gollywog of pixie in sight!"

Mum arrived, with two bags, one in each hand. She unlocked the car and we all got in.

"We have to call into the garage on the way home," she said, "The car's not running right."

"What's wrong with it?" I asked.