It was a dark and stormy night. The city slept, except, of course, for the cathouses and the opium dens. The rain came down in torrents, making a sound like millions of soft bullets on the cobblestone streets. The big man walked stridently down the narrow sidewalks, shifting his weight periodically to avoid the mounds of garbage, some of which were piled to eye level, that had been thrown from upper-story windows that morning. He wore a bearskin across his shoulders as protection from the rain, and a heavy broadsword flopped lazily against his left thigh. The few people who dared to walk the streets with him that night, mostly fishmongers and panhandlers, made a point of staying out of the big man's way. His eyes gleamed with a red fire, like those of a demon. He was angry that night.

The big man stopped at a run-down dive called the Wounded Boar Alehouse, which was one of the establishments frequented by the man he was looking for. He crashed through the heavy oaken doors of the place, and the light inside assailed his eyes immediately. He found the man he was looking for (the dirty swine) crouched over a wooden table at the back of the room, playing cards with a half-dozen malcontents. He was a slimy little fellow, with his diamond-studded teeth and his obnoxiously flagrant style of dress. The big man reached his quarry in three long strides, as patrons eyed him from behind their mugs of ale with looks of fear and trepidation on their faces.

The big man stood in front of his quarry's table, his arms crossed.

"All, Zoolman, it does not surprise me in the least to find vermin as yourself infesting a rat-hole such as this!"

Zoolman looked up from the cards that he held in his hand. "Take it easy, Merkton. Sit down-take a load off. You look like you need it. You're dripping water all over the floor. I would invite you to take part in the game, but I'm afraid that this one is already in progress. If you would like to wait...."

Merkton cut Zoolman off in mid-sentence, by grabbing him by the lapels and pulling him up to eye level.

"Listen you little keg-maggot! I've had about enough of you for one day! You know very well why I'm here. You bilked me out of 20 gold pieces this very morning, and I expect you to either pay up or else!" Merkton removed a hand from Zoolman to reach for his sword belt, which caused the others at the table to each move back about a foot.

"Merkton, please!" Zoolman said. "Not so loud; keep you voice down! I have a reputation to uphold, and I don't like the implication being spread around that I'm a crook. I'm a legitimate businessman. I provide a service for the community."

"A service?! You pass off useless junk as magical artifacts! Why, just take a look at this dagger!" He pulled an iron dagger from beneath his bearskin. "You sold me this lousy piece of iron for 20 gold, telling me if I chant 'neegee-neegee' over it three times that it would transform into a flaming sword! Well, I've been trying that all day, and do you know what happened?"

Merkton looked at one of the other men sitting at the table. "Do you know what happened?!"

The man shook his head no.

"Well, I'll tell you what happened. NOTHING! That's what happened! Nothing!"

Zoolman was getting nervous. He had never seen Merkton this angry, even when he sold him those beans the previous year that were supposed to grow into five-story beanstalks when you whizzed on them.

Merkton glared at Zoolman. "Go ahead: you try it!" He handed him the dagger. Zoolman took it in trembling hands. "Go ahead, try it!" In a quavering voice, the dagger wobbling in his hands, he softly recited "Neegee-neegee, neegee-neegee, neegee-nee...."

"...gee..."

Suddenly, there was a flash of blinding light, and Zoolman found that he was gripping a pit viper in both hands. The creature writhed and hissed, and Zoolman screamed. The men around the table began to scramble away, as the snake decided to strike, biting Zoolman below the chin. Zoolman gurgled as blood, mixing with venom, ran down his neck.

"That's for the 'magic beans' you sold me last year," Merkton said. "Have a nice day, Zoolman."

He turned and walked toward the door.

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