It was the best of times, but could it be spiraling into the worst of times? There was fear in the air...bordering on riot. The couriers from RNN were fanning the flames...The peasants seemed revolting. Some even demanded restitution. Raconteurs were spinning an armageddon bust. Was the Kingdom of Ravenna in for a relapse?
For a moment or two, relax your credibility and heed my repartee... and you will forever recount this tale.
Rafael, the Royal Crown's remuneration advocate, had rounded the numbers as realistically as possible and was on his way to give his report in person to King Ronaldo, The McDonald (long story). It was a remarkably pleasant day, but Rafael's horse reared suddenly and sprained an ankle. A ruffian had roused the steed. He had to now walk, but not with reckless abandon. As he traveled onward he recalled that the requirements to rectify a rather ridiculous assumption were simply to show that the economy was not on a random rollercoaster of irrational exuberance. After all, his own Roth was intact and doing quite well -- and such was the case for many of the rich merchants in Ravenna. (of course, a negative report could earn him the rack!)
Real people, he thought, could shed a ray of light for a clear revelation on the subject.
Ravenna was a hill town and rich in raw materials. Rather than random postulation, he reveled in recounting the several accounts forwarded by the townspeople.
Roberto dealt in leather goods and was brimming with news about requisitioned livery by the Crown.
Rinaldo, the goldsmith, had orders for the shiny stuff that were through the roof. Ryanna, his ravishing wife, spun the gold into royal garments for the Republican guard.
The man who distributed the spirits for the town, drinking imported Riesling at the time, remarked that he had not seen such a robust economy in years!
The miller's daughter, Rowena, recalled that her father had to build several more repositories for the large influx of rye required.
Even Rondo the cobbler remarked that the resole business was booming.
And the masons, by the dozens, were reconstructing the retaining walls around the ramparts...
Finally, Rafael stopped at the Rotgut and Retch Inn for refreshment. At one table sat Ralphino the Naysayer who rarely worked but loved rousing the rabble. He was fond of recounting economic reversals in his life and wagging his finger at everyone who cared to listen, reminding them of the restitution that would have to be made by those refusing to 
recognize the droppings of The Black Raven. The residents of Ravenna were quite superstitious in these regards. If the bird pooped black, things were going to be resplendent; if red, the sky would fall. The droppings had shown red, but it was pointed out that this was after the bird was fed raspberry risotto! It was a ruse.
Rafael observed that the patrons at the Inn were resourceful and responsible. Each was relating how a revolution could never come to pass considering the region's rate of growth. He asked several: recount if you can, any other time when riches were so easily raised? No one could repress such good tidings.
So, our hero was given rarified proof that his reasoning was right on. His research was backed up by the simple ratio of rationality to reality.
The ramparts of the castle were in view now and his heart raced, relieved by the facts of the matter: he could review the evidence with the king and his advisers in a most relaxed manner and reassure the court that the Republic was indeed robust. The king proclaimed: "You can't rig a rally!" Ronaldo rewarded Rafael with the esteemed Rhodothendron Rhinestone. Rafael's 'rithmatick ruled. His was no random recitation. Ravenna's economy was indeed remarkable. Only the jester continued to rile over and over... about the 'R' word! Totally ridiculous.
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