"YOU, SIR!"
"Me?"
"Yes, you! You have the rugged look of a dauntless delver about you, if I do say so myself."
"Why...well, I suppose I do, don't I?"
"But of course! And yet...."
"And yet?"
"I can tell there's something...missing. Say, how do you feel about devilites?"
"Can't stand the bastards. Last Thursday I had to get an emergency surgery, doctor said it was the third chair-in-ass-ectomy he'd done that week."
"Well. What would you say if I told you I had the perfect. Weapon. For. You."
"Will it solve my chair-in-ass problem?"
"It will solve your chair-in-everything problem. I present to you...the Snarble Barb!"
"Is that a pokemon? It sounds like a pokemon."
"No, my fine fellow, it is a sinister sword that powerfully pierces any doomed devilites that dare disturb your delving."
"That's a mouthful!"
"No, it's a sword. And it can be yours, for one easy payment of 20,000 crowns!"
"Sounds like an awful lot for a pointy stick."
"Why, sir! I do not deal in cheap knockoffs. My 'pointy sticks,' as it were, are fabricated from the finest, snarbliest, barbiest Snarbolax spines. Your sword will pop a balloon at fifteen meters merely for looking at it funny."
"But still...20,000. I could visit my girlfriend in Emberlight a few times for that much."
"Aren't gremlins the only inhabitants of Emberlight?"
"Yeah, what of it?"
"...Nothing. In any case, I doubt your sweetheart would appreciate spending your whole romantic weekend tending to a tender rear full of office chair. Is her happiness worth less than 20,000 crowns to you?"
"I would pay anything for her!"
"Then you would also pay 20,000 for a sword for you, for her?"
"Of course!"
"Excellent. It has been a pleasure doing business with you. Happy delving!"

* * *

knock knock knock

Knock Knock Knock

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM

“...You didn’t have to shoot the door in.”
“Well you no have to be making me wait.”
“Is that a Sentenza? Very nice, very nice! Might I interest you in a UV ticket, or perh--”
“Spare me cheap hustle, Silverknight. I am not coming here for to be flattery.”
“Then to what do I owe the...pleasure of your company?”
“Do not be acting stupid. You owe Mr. Magnus a great much crowns. Payment is being expected soon. Very soon.”
“Oh, yes, that. My trinket should flip any week now, so you can go and assure Mr. Magnus that that he will get his money right awohmygodpleaseputmedown”
“You are not having weeks. You are not having days. Mr. Magnus is most unhappy with delay.”
“isoldasnarblebarbearlierfor20,000icangivethattoyounowiswear”
“HA! Mr. Magnus no has need for petty change. 300,000. Tomorrow.”
THUNK
“Please...just a little more time...I’ll have it in a week, I swear--”
“Is not my job to care. Is my job to collect. 300,000. Tomorrow.”
“There’s no way I can scrounge it up that quickly!”
“Then I hope you are having good shadow and piercing defense, Silverknight. Next time, I no be shooting door.”

* * *

“What’ll it be, Henry?”
“A wolverale and a noose.”
“Whoa there, champ. Bad day in the square?”
“Worse.”
“What kind of worse?”
“I need a new door.”
“One of Magnus’ goons?”
“Let’s just say if I don’t come up with a few hundred grand by tomorrow evening, the next wolverale I drink will pour out of several holes before it reaches my stomach.”
“What was he carrying?”
“Seriously? I’m below rock bottom and all you’re curious about is the type of gun that’s going to blow me several new ones?”
“I’m an arms enthusiast, you know that.”
“A Sentenza.”
“Yeesh, those aren’t even good.”
“Right?! I’d rather bite it from a Peacemaker, at least.”
“More dignified way to go. You must be in deep--haven’t even sipped your wolverale yet.”
“It’s bad, Mitch. It’s worse than the fortune I lost in the great binding debacle.”
“Worse than your singing last Wednesday at karaoke night?”
“Screw you, Mitch.”
“So...what are you gonna do?”
“Why do you think I ordered the noose? Speaking of, where is it?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Henry.”
“Okay, Mitch. You’re the genius here, so what do you expect me to do? Huh? Because I’ve thought of everything. Boosting for coins at the arena costs too much and takes too long, not to mention I’d rather swallow a spine cone than endure that boredom. Material sales took a dive the minute they introduced that damned auction house with its 10% cut. Borrowing from Magnus to go all-in on the new trinkets got me into this in the first place. So you tell me, Mitch. What’s your brilliant plan?!”
“I dunno champ, don’t get your brigandine in a twist. But you’re Henry Silverknight, fast-talking salesman supreme. You’ve made quicker crowns than anyone else who’s ever bought a wolverale in this joint, and you of all people should know that hanging yourself just cause the skies are grey isn’t exactly a wise business decision. Sounds more like a recipe for failure. Plus, you’d be missing on the Vanaduke Vanquishers’ annual reunion party! Those guys know how to have a good time, let me tell you.”
“I just...it’s that.... I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying, but...grey...party...recipe....”
“You sound drunk. Tell me you aren’t drunk already, I had a bet with Simmons that you’d have sixteen tonight.”
“Mitch. I have an idea. I need you to trust me. Also, I need your life savings”
“Are you crazy? What makes you thin--”
“If this plan works, I will make all your money back, settle my debts and never come to karaoke night again.”
“...Deal.”

* * *

“EY! We’re supposed ta be here for some sorta party?”
“Yeah, don’t look like no party is here for us, though.”
“What’s the big idea, yeah? Makin us bust our [buttocks] down ta level 23 ta hang out in some dingy hole.”
“Yeah, boss! How come we isn’t at The Jelly & King like we is every year?”
“Now, gentlemen. Welcome to the 23 Lounge! I’m Henry Silverknight, and I’ll be taking care of the festivities this fine evening, including a super secret event that, I can assure you, is the first of its kind for the Vanaduke Vanquishers.”
“Okay yeah whatever, where’s the wolverale?”
“Mitch will serve you at the bar over there on the left. Let me take your coat.”
“Be careful with it, dat’s pure vog cub. Cost me a fortune.”
“Don’t worry, gentlemen, I will do my utmost to ensure tonight is the best possible experience for you and your...ninety seven other friends.”

* * *

“I gotta hand it to you champ, the Vanquishers seem to be having a great time here.”
“Is it because of my excellent catering choice, your excellent drinks, or that they’ve realized nobody gives a damn if they break everything on level 23?”
“Yes.”
“I was quite proud of that, actually. I sold it as an ‘exclusive, avant-garde interactive nihilistic nightclub experience.’”
“You salesmen always have a way with words. And speaking of, I’ve been meaning to ask--won’t Basil be madder than a devilite on overtime that you’re trashing his place?”
“Basil and I have come to an understanding, Mitch. Well, it’s time to get this show on the road.”

* * *

“Gentlemen, may I have your attention please!

MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE!

SHUT THE HELL UP

*Ahem*...thank you, gentlemen. I see by the woeful state of the 23 Lounge that you have all been enjoying yourselves immensely. It is with great excitement that I bring this party to its rousing peak with the

first

annual

Vanaduke

Vanquishers

CORE CARNAGE CHALLENGE!”
“YEEEEEEEEEEAH!”
“On my mark, you esteemed warriors shall begin a frantic race to see who can annihilate the most foes en route to the core of this world. There shall be no quarter!”
“NO QUARTEEEEEEEEEER!”
“Spare no slime, be kind to no beast, give no gremlin a second chance!”
“NO SECOND CHANCEEEEEEEES!”
“Kill all constructs, destroy all devilites! It will be a complete jellycide!”
“JELLYCIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE!”
“But what is a fabulous contest without fabulous prizes? The winner of this challenge will take home one. Million. CROWNS.”
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!”
“To enter, simply purchase a Grey Owlite Shield recipe from my good man Basil over there, whom I will most certainly owe a new carpet, and drop it off in this box on your way down.”
“NEW CARPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!”

* * *

knock knock knock

“Enter!”
“Funny, I no expect you be greeting death so happily.”
“Another day, my good man. I have what you came for, now leave me in peace.”
“...I am impress. Where you getting this kind of money?”
“I cornered a certain market.”
“Very well. Mr. Magnus will being happy to have crowns back. Me, not so much. I was look forward to shooting you.”
“And I look forward to the day when I can afford an assassin to bring me your head so I can use it as a chair and have you kiss my ass for eternity. Get out of my house.”
“HA! You are good at talk, Silverknight. Have good day.”

* * *

“Here’s your savings back, and here’s your cut of the leftover profit.”
“You know, champ, you did pretty good.”
“Of course. I am ‘Henry Silverknight, fast-talking salesman supreme’ after all.”
“That did sound pretty corny, I’ll admit.”
“There’s a reason I’m the salesman and you’re the bartender.”
“Ouch.”
“But...thank you. I mean it.”
“No worries, champ.”
“I’m serious. Without using your savings as a prize, I would have never been able to amass all those recipes in entry fees.”
“Don’t tell my wife.”
“I guess it’s back to square one, then.”
“Better than square dead. Got any clue where you’re going to go from here? The next hustle?”
“I have an idea....”

* * *

“YOU, SIR!”