*shows up, wearing a victory wreath made from faded Harriet Tubman dollar bills interwoven with slightly less-faded Muntadhar al-Zaidi New Dinars and hung with verdigris-tinted Jimmy Carter nickels and dusty Andrew Yang cred-discs, a long luxurious scarf synthesized from hagfish-slime, a coronet carved from black dwarf-matter, and a garish souvenir shirt from Lo'ihi, riding astride a beam of light that is only now flickering down from red to infrared*
That Cosmic Prix of yours? I already won last night, Your Penultimacy.
?rebmemer uoy t'noD
In the 34th Century, the sheer scope of inhabited space, its resources, and its needs, combined of course with inflation, has caused the very concept of money to become so meaningless in anything short of jaw-dropping quantities that land becomes currency - so yes, my plan is to go down to the shop and buy some zero-point energy muffins, quasar fruit, and superstring-cheese; I will purchase them with my Luna, and I expect the shopkeep will convert it into 1 Pluto and 1 Quaoar in change for me.
The next poster will describe what it's like to buy a loaf of bread in the 27th Century.