You started the office lottery pool three years ago, so when something messy comes up, everyone just looks at you. Seventeen of you chip in five bucks a week; this week Dave, the guy who microwaves fish every Friday, forgot his. Then the pool hit forty thousand dollars. By the rules the sixteen who paid split it, twenty-five hundred each, and the group has quietly told you that whatever you decide about the last share, they'll go along with.
QoreQore