The two hooded men quickly entered and dragged the woman, kicking and screaming, from the chamber. The board returned to their paperwork.

"Next."

A young man entered the chamber and the question was posed to him.

"Ah sweep the city streets, yer lordships," the lad answered quietly, his eyes on the floor. "Ev'ry night, from dusk 'til dawn, I pick up the dung and trash left behind by man and beast, as it were. Been doin' this for nigh on to a year, now. Tha's all, yer lordships."

The board conversed for a moment, then announced, "Accepted."

The king was growing restless, again. "Are there many more?" he whined.

A board member looked up and said, "Not many, sire."

The king sighed and slumped back in his throne. It was, after all, by his own decree that every two years, all citizens over sixteen years of age were posed "The Question" and any who were found to be a drain on the limited resources of the realm were summarily disposed of. It had been his idea and carried out by his decree, but six years ago, when this plan was first implemented, the king had not realized that it would take so blasted long to see the process through every time. They had been at it for nearly a month, now, day in and day out. True, each session saw fewer and fewer disposals, which was the ultimate purpose of his plan, but still, having to pose the question to every single subject in the realm and then listening to all of the answers was frightfully boring.

Another two hours passed (slowly, for the king), during which time several more disposals were, well, disposed of, before the governing board finally began to collect and pack away their reams of paperwork.

The king, noticing the change in activity, sat up and asked, "What, was that the last one?"

One of the board members turned slowly to the king and said, "Very nearly, sire."