ENTRY 025: HAPPY SHOPPAVERSARY!
Dear Diary,
Today marked the shop’s anniversary. A whole decade of dealing with cursed mirrors, even more cursed customers, terrible junk, and people who think their “authentic” artifacts are worth a dragon’s hoard. I figured it was a good excuse to drum up some business, so I decided to throw a celebration.
I even put up a sign outside: “10-Year Anniversary! Special Deals and Refreshments!”
The “refreshments” consisted of a tray of slightly stale cookies and a pitcher of lukewarm cider, both of which I snagged from the bakery’s day-old section. Not exactly a feast, but hey, I run a pawn shop, not a banquet hall.
Korgath took the whole thing surprisingly seriously. He dusted off his old dungeon boss armor. “Korgath welcomes customers,” he grunted, standing by the door like a terrifying bouncer.
At first, the plan seemed to work. A steady stream of adventurers, merchants, and curious locals wandered in, lured by the promise of deals. The first hiccup came when someone asked about the “special deals.”
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“How much for this?” a gnome asked, holding up a gaudy brooch shaped like a toad.
“Five gold,” I said.
“But it says ‘special deals.’ Is it enchanted?”
“Oh yes. It croaks whenever someone lies. It's actually worth much more than five gold.”
The damn brooch croaked at that.
Then there was the bard. There’s always a bard. This one offered to “perform” for the anniversary crowd in exchange for a discount on a lute. His singing was so bad that half the customers left, and I had a very strong urge to follow them.
Honestly, the bard deserves a spot in my cursed section.
By midday, the refreshments were gone (stale cookies attract adventurous appetites, apparently). I only wish the same could be said about my deals. The highlight of the day came when an elf tried to run away with the Boots of Swift Evasion. She promptly launched herself into the ceiling beams and dangled there for ten minutes before Korgath plucked her down along with other decorations.
The final blow came late in the afternoon, when a merchant wandered in and loudly declared, “This place hasn’t changed a bit in ten years! Still smells like burnt cheese!”
The shop survived its anniversary, but I can’t say the same for my pride. On the bright side, Korgath seemed to enjoy himself. He’s already talking about planning next year’s event. If that happens, I’d be wiser to delegate everything to the broom.
Yours in profit,
Garren