Pecan Praline enters an antique shop tucked away on a gloomy side street clutching a package to her chest. The young woman marches up to the counter and waits for the shopkeeper to notice her.
Pecan: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
Pecan: 'Ello, Miss?
Shopkeeper: What do you mean "miss"?
Pecan: I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
Shopkeeper: We're closin' for lunch.
Pecan: Never mind that, good sir. I wish to complain about this scrying mirror what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Shopkeeper: (nods) Ah yes, a fine item, Norwegian craftsmanship… what’s wrong with it?
Pecan: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, sir. It’s defective. I asked it show me the face of my dearest love and I get THIS!
(Pecan slaps the mirror down on the counter and she, along with shopkeeper,
Read more »