Old protolerian stroked his grizzled back, leaned his elbow on the edge of a nest and went on telling his story to the grandchildren, who sat nearby with mouths open in amazement.
- I was a well-known archeologist back then, digging in dirt of different planets, thinking of how I could make some cash. And once during a vacation our feces waste press has broken. New details were very expensive, so I decided to repair it myself. Funny, but after my modifications the feces press only started producing some sparkling spheres. I tried to repair in many times, but it seems like the press was hopelessly damaged. I had to buy a new one, and put this  in the lower hollow where we kept junk.
The old man paused for a second, scratched his prominent nose and continued.
These were tumultuous times, we got burgled, almost all precious archaeological artifacts had been stolen. I’ve been looking for them later at  black markets, and imagine my surprise when I saw my sparkling sphere at one of the auctions. It has been sold for insane, immense price. So, I’ve been doing such spheres for customers from time to time, since I get paid real well for it. Me and grandma bought those trees on which all the village lives now, and our larvae farm. 
Well, I would never have thought that my shit could cost so much!