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“Stop! Thief!” screams the jewelry store owner, staggering out into the street. She lunges toward the shirtless police detective lounging on a bike stand.

“He just stole our spring inventory,” she pants. “Quick! Aren’t you going to do something?”

“I will,” says Gautama firmly. “I’ll ensure that the Great Wheel of Being continues turning, so that when his mortal husk decays–unless he’s done great goodness to equal his crime–he’ll return to life as something terrible, like an ant, or a poor person!”

“That… that sounds a lot like fatalism,” says the owner sourly.

“Nope,” says Gautama, “it’s–“