Drowning Man

So, I'm paddling around the lake, and I see this guy in the water, thrashing. So, I paddle over to lend an oar.

"Here you go," I say. "Grab on, and I'll pull you in!"

"What about the price of eggs?" he asks.

"Beg pardon?" I'm not sure I heard him correctly.

"Eggs! Eggs!" he screams. "Are you going to bring down the price of eggs?"

"Um, I don't know anything about that," I reply. "Here, just get a hold of this here oar, and we can talk about that later, if you like."

"Nope," he glubs, and goes under, not for the first time.

"Aren't you drowning?" I ask, as he breaks the surface again.

"Yes," he gasps, "but if rescue is all you have to offer, I'll have to give it pass."

"Are you ... serious?" I sputter confusedly. I almost said "crazy," but that doesn't seem constructive. "Let's just get you on board first."

"What about inflation?" he asks, splashing ineffectively. "What are you going to do about that? Do you have any idea what the price of steak is these days?"

"Actually, being a vegetarian, no," I admit. "But you can tell me, once you climb aboard."

"No thanks," he wheezes, going under again. Then, surfacing, "Saving my life is not enough for me to put my faith in you. You have to tell me what else you propose to do. What are you going to do about the cost of housing?"

I am at a loss for words. "Breathing comes first, don't you think?" I ask, waving the oar.

But the surface of the lake has closed for the last time above the struggling swimmer. Not even a ripple remains to mark his location.