The neighbor looked at the bills resting on the table. He squinted at them under his flashlight and then started laughing so hard he nearly dropped his light.

"See?" Chooty Malli said, leaning back and picking up his cold tea. "I told you my thoughts were bright. I knew all along it wasn't our bill."

"Light bilai, wathura bilai avilla!" Podi Malli screamed, his voice hitting a pitch usually reserved for seeing a cobra in the kitchen.

"We must take drastic measures," Chooty Malli declared, standing tall. "From now on, we live like the ancestors. No lights. We sleep when the sun goes down. We wash only with the morning dew. We will save every cent!"

The two spent the next hour in a state of high-energy panic. They went from room to room, accusing each other of "energy crimes." Chooty Malli pointed at the old radio that stayed plugged in; Podi Malli pointed at the fan that hummed even when the windows were wide open.