NARRATOR: Brandle, a burly man. A merchant for many years, he was known as Max, the nickname of the oldest boat in the dock. The day was going slow until Sasha stopped at his office.
BRANDLE: You know there are better places to be little sister.
SASHA: Those places don’t include free candy.
NARRATOR: She grabbed a salted sweet from the bowl on his desk.
BRANDLE: Ah! That’s why you come here, for a second I thought it was for the personality.
SASHA: No, of course not.
BRANDLE: So what do you have for me?
SASHA: Three merchant vessels, full of weapons.
BRANDLE: Are we talking about ones with lead or ones with points?
SASHA: How about ones that can shoot ten blaster shells in ten seconds?
BRANDLE: Tell me more of this magical device.
SASHA: It’s lightweight, and rust proof. A man could carry ten and barely feel it. It takes shoder shells like the side splitter but holds double. It’s three times as accurate, _and _has twice the range.
BRANDLE: Hmm, it seems your smithers have been at work. What really makes you so confident in this product? I have merchants come in here all day promising me fairy dust. You don’t seem like one to sell fairy dust. So what is the real reason you are taking such a risk? Three merchant vessels full of a brand new gun is quite a sign of something, I’m not sure what.
SASHA: What do you think it’s made out of?
BRANDLE: Tell me I don’t like guessing.
SASHA: It’s over fifty percent plastic, we can make fifteen of these things at the same time as making four side splitters. Just as resilient too.
BRANDLE: Are you selling me air here? I don’t know what wizard magic your smiths are doing but plastic guns sound like a lot of firing issues.
SASHA: A jam here or there is gonna stop your army? We designed them for sea warfare, the less metal the less rust to deal with. You know your merchants need new weapons, they’d be better off using big sticks with the amount of rust on their guns.
BRANDLE: Smart thinking, well let me see one and find out if these claims are true. I assume you have one?
SASHA: Of course.
NARRATOR: Sasha pulled out the small shotgun from her bag. The opaque plastic and metal looked melted together.
BRANDLE: It looks ugly.
SASHA: You mean powerful, striking, a mark of good protection.
BRANDLE: I mean it looks like you melted a condom onto a gun. Let’s hope it shoots well.
NARRATOR: Brandle slipped the shells into the gun before entering the range. Bracing it against his shoulder he fired! The shotgun almost effortlessly shot the shells, Brandle’s shoulder intact.
BRANDLE: Impressive. Let me keep this one and let one of the boys put a couple more shells through it. Have to make sure it doesn’t melt.
SASHA: You have little faith?
BRANDLE: Little sister, you assume you have a deal already?
SASHA: I have.
BRANDLE: If that is the case how much are you looking at per unit?
SASHA: Nineteen per.
BRANDLE: Whoa! Little sister, you are the one who needs faith with that price.
SASHA: I sold you the side splitters for twenty one per? This piece will be so much better, cheaper too.
BRANDLE: The side splitter put down a couple lords, that’s branding worth the price. Your miracle gun here hasn’t even been used to put down a dog.
SASHA: How about we go sixteen per for the first ship and nineteen for the rest. It’s the lowest I can go without having to throw a couple servants overboard.
BRANDLE: How about you go to fourteen for the first two?
SASHA: You’d be putting me at a loss here.
BRANDLE: I’m hearing a yes.
SASHA: You’re hearing a yes at sixteen per for all three.
BRANDLE: Aye, I can do that.
NARRATOR: Brandle and Sasha shook hands, marking this deal as complete.