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On the Shelf: |
Behind the Counter: |
This Week's Special:
When Frankie is having
a bad week, she will don virgin killer and go to hobby store that has liquor
licence. Frankie will sit at front counter, drinking beers and opening Pokémon
Trading Card Game booster packs. She will loll through cards like playing
scratchie, uninterrupted and intimidating the Warhammer 40,000 players.
Occasionally she pulls something good.
As anyone with television
knows, Jessie and James routinely and reliably employ pitfall traps.
The absence of a Trap Hole card
from Pokémon TCG is an obvious and glaring omission. It is so obvious that,
through sheer obviousness, people still occasionally pull one from a booster
pack. Said cards are not tournament legal.
Instead, through sheer
obviousness, placing a Pokémon TCG Trap Hole Card on ground will manifest a
trap hole. Collectors want Trap Hole cards but not enough - ain't no one
grading them. The market may lie in overlap of sloth and mal intent.
Alternatively, those wary of being followed may fork out for convenient booby
trap that fits in wallet.
That market is Giuseppe.
Giuseppe is an
enthusiast and so pogo-sticks from one Cabbage Patch kid to the next. It is a
high-stakes game of 'floor is lava', if lava is knee-deep writhing mass of
dolls craving flesh. Sauerkraut gets boring. Giuseppe pikes onto central island
and swipes the thing. This dungeon's boss chirps awake and the dolls scatter -
a storey tall Snot the Green Dragon.
Giuseppe throws, like ninja stars, triplicate of fidget spinners. Two hit and
Snot is sent spinning and fidgeting. Giuseppe pogos his escape.
The thing Giuseppe swiped is
a Dango, an obscure videogame console from the 90's. It has increased in price
after a renaissance of interest in one of its exclusives, The
Fantastic Adventures of SEXDICK.
The target market for the
Dango console is, therefore, someone seeking a particular nostalgia. A
nostalgia foreign to most, excepting some Brazilians or Iranians. A nostalgia
for a gaming age that never really existed. Giuseppe is not this market, but it
is certainly large enough.
That market is Felicity.
It is not quite tradition
for newlyweds to retain case of the wine drunk during their wedding reception.
The idea is to crack bottle on anniversary, which is mid because the majority
of wines do not age well. The sentiment is, well, sentimental, the wine
acquiring properties of the marriage. Not all marriages reach significant
anniversary. Felicity collects
the wines.
In Felicity's Cellar is a
Particular Bottle of Pepperjack 2017 Cabernet Sauvignon. It is imbued with
lockdown's gaze turned inward - or, rather, ears and nose trapped inside. This
Particular Bottle reshuffles the gut biome into a centre-left cabinet, meaning
farts are as quiet as possible. The drinker's gas takes on the scent of
elderflower.
It is not the drinking-alone
drunkard who will buy this bottle, nor somm with tasting notes irked by
elderflower. The buyer may not necessarily be flatulent but will certainly be
self-conscious of the possibility. Someone may look to pair good impression
with business lunch, let pitch do the talking and not out the ass. More likely:
it has been a while.
That market is Magdalene.
Magdalene is a cog
in a machine. She fits well enough but is underutilised - plenty of other cogs
will fit her slot in generically min-maxed business. To appreciate herself,
Magdalene uses spare time employing her specialisation as alchemist. Each
morning's cumulative bowel movements, totalling forty minutes on average, is
poor representation of time's value.
What is bitch to do but
gather necessities? Gourd of hyena
butter for cooking fuel. Used
delivery forms for filtration paper. Carton of beer. For drinking.
So Magdalene got drunk and,
unrelated, brewed more Potion of Pooping Efficiency. This Potion Is Not A
Laxative. Do Not Take This Potion When Experiencing Colonic Retribution. This
potion instead improves logistics of anus, eliminating the wait between
available poops. Some folks are fine letting their poops procrastinate (because
phones) but others prefer to drop bowels like battalion of paratroopers.
That market is Frankie.
* Footnote.
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