The seven atheistically ordained high priests of Marxism huddle around the sacred texts. Only seven scrolls left, containing the sum total of their knowledge. One of the faceless grey men reaches out to unfurl a weathered papyrus scroll, as to refresh his fading memory of one of the True Precepts. As he tenderly teases it apart, the forces of time prove too much and the paper crumbles into dust, gently blowing away on the wind like smoke.

The Labor Theory of Value is no more.

The seven robed figures let out a wail, dissonant and useless.