Benjamin Brown's parents were millionaires. Benjamin a millionaire many times over too, and one weekend, he threw a party in his mansion. He ate the food, drank the alcohol, and consumed drugs with everyone there. Benjamin loved his money. It got him anything he wanted. He stopped a waiter walking by. "Hey garcon, bring the best wine and cocktail glasses that my father bought from all over the world. Let's drink from them."

The servants brought in the glasses, and Benjamin and all the guests drank from them.

Benjamin raised his cocktail glass. "Praise the god of gold!"

The guests cheered and drank.

Benjamin raised his glass again. "Praise the god of money!"

The guests cheered again and drank.

That night, after the guests had left, Benjamin sat in a drunken stupor in the living room. As he stared at the wall across the room, a disembodied human hand appeared near a lit lamp. Benjamin's heart pounded, and his knees knocked together. "What do you want?" He yelled at the hand.

The hand wrote Mene, Tekel, Parsin on the wall in a flourish, as if it enjoyed the task. Benjamin tried to focus his eyes and attention on the wall, but the words were foreign, and they blurred together. The hand disappeared.

Benjamin ran his hands down his face. "God, I'm so drunk...and high that I'm seeing gibberish." He didn't have the strength or the energy to stand and go to his bedroom, so he fell asleep in the chair.

In the morning, Benjamin awoke with a terrible hangover. As his eyes drifted open, his gaze focused on the wall. He stood and wobbled over to it. Words were written on it! "I don't understand these words." Benjamin's stomach heaved, and nausea flooded over him. "My friends played a trick on me. Those bastards are always trying to make me look stupid."

That afternoon, even though his head and body hurt terribly, Benjamin asked his friends over to the mansion and showed them the words on the wall. "Which one of you wrote these words on my wall to make me look stupid?"

They looked at each other and then murmured among each other. Then they looked at Benjamin.
"No, Ben," Jasper, one of his college friends, said. "Why would we do such a thing to you?"

"I don't know. Maybe to laugh at my expense, but whoever can tell me what these words mean, I'll give them some money," Benjamin said. "And I don't mean a tiny amount."

"Are you trying to trick one of us, Ben, by seeing and hearing who reads the words and tells you their meaning? Then you can punish them?" Jasper asked.

"No," Benjamin said. "I truly don't know the meanings of the words. Please look at the wall."
His friends gathered around and looked at the wall. All were baffled. They could not read the words, much less tell Benjamin what they meant.

Benjamin's girlfriend, Mia, stepped forward and looked at the wall. "I know a guy, Daniel, who teaches at the college, and he can help you. He studies Aramaic."

"How do you know about this guy?" Benjamin asked.

Embarrassment flushed Mia's face. "I told you he was my professor when I took his French class."

"A class that I paid for."

Mia faced Benjamin. "Daniel has insight, intelligence, and wisdom. He also has a keen mind, knowledge, and understanding. He can interpret dreams, explain riddles, and solve difficult problems. Ask Daniel to come to the mansion, and he'll tell you what the writing means."

"Thanks, Mia. You always know about everything and everybody," Benjamin said. "Thanks to my money, your social circles have increased tenfold."

Tears shimmered in Mia's eyes. "People like me because I treat them decently not because I have money. Goodbye Ben. I've had enough of your abuse. Have a good life." She turned and left the room.

Benjamin faced his friends. "If you guys knew about this professor, why didn't you bring him with you?"

"We didn't think you wanted any," Jasper made quotes with his fingers, 'academics' around."

"Don't presume to think for me again," Benjamin said. "It's arrogant and disrespectful to me."

Jasper scoffed. "We're arrogant? We're disrespectful? You just treated Mia as if she were nothing more than a groupie."

Benjamin sneered. "Well, aren't all of you? You guys don't seem to mind coming to my parties and getting whatever you want. Booze. Women. Drugs."

Jasper searched for Professor Daniel Shapiro's number at the college on his cellular telephone. He dialed the number and placed the telephone on speaker. He gave the telephone to Benjamin. "There." The telephone was ringing on the other end.

"Hello," Daniel said. "This is Professor Shapiro."

Benjamin asked Daniel to come to the mansion to look at the wall immediately. He handed Jasper's telephone back to him.

"We're out of here," Jasper said. He turned to the group. "C'mon you guys, let's go." He looked at Daniel and laughed. "Have fun with your hand's writing Mr. Big Shot."

When Daniel arrived, Benjamin took him to the living room and showed him the wall with the writing.

"None of my friends could explain it either," Benjamin said when they stopped in front of the wall.

Daniel walked close to the wall and touched the words.

Benjamin stood beside him. He lifted the fingers of his right hand and touched them to his forehead. His head ached terribly. "My girlfriend said that you can translate these words. If you can read these words and tell me what they mean, I'll give you a large fee for doing it."

Daniel slid his hand over the words. "You can keep your money and give it to someone else, but I'll read the words for you, and tell you what they mean." He removed his hand from the wall. "Benjamin, your father always generously donated to the university's Humanities Department, but when his arrogant heart hardened with pride because the board honored his competitor with the Citizenship Award, your father took his patronage away."

Professor Shapiro's voice changed to a deep rumble and his eyes turned white. "And you, Benjamin, aren't humble either. Instead, you lord your money and power over your friends and worship money like good people worship GOD. HE holds your life and your ways in HIS hands. Therefore, HE sent the hand that wrote this inscription."

"Tell me, what do the words mean?" Benjamin asked. "I need to know."

Professor Shapiro placed his hand on the word Mene. "GOD has numbered the days of your useless existence" He slid his hand down the wall and rested it on the word Tekel. "You've been weighed on the scales and found wanting." Finally, Professor Shapiro slid his hand further down the wall and rested his hand on the last word Parsin. "Your friends will desert you. Your money and every material possession you have will disappear."

Professor Shapiro's voice returned to normal, and his eyes returned to their brown color. "I'm suddenly very tired. I must be going."

"Wait, Professor. I need to write you a check for the fee I promised."

"No, thank you," Professor Shapiro said. "I don't want or need your money."

That night, Benjamin lay in his bed, drunk, high, and upset about Professor Shapiro's predictions. Screw it! The man didn't know a thing. He wasn't right about anything he said. Later, Benjamin woke and used the bathroom. As he exited the bathroom, he slipped on the tile floor and fell. He stood and felt okay, so he returned to his bed.

The next morning when Benjamin didn't come to breakfast, his butler went to his bedroom to check on him. The butler found Benjamin dead in his bed. Later, the autopsy found that Benjamin had died from a brain bleed caused by the fall.

Benjamin made no will and testament, and he was an only child. His friends attended his funeral, but none deeply mourned him. His mansion was sold to another millionaire, and everything in it was sold at an auction. The inscription had come true.

The mansion's new owner painted over the inscription on the wall, thinking it was someone's bad joke.