Paul's Boutique

Paul W. Smontague, esq.
You wander around for a while, flipping the weird foreign coin in the air and looking for a place to spend it. Eventually, you stumble across a small shop on the Wrong Side of the Tracks, inconspicuous nearly to the point of invisibility. Inside you find, to your surprise, glass cases filled with gold and diamond jewellery, and all manner of extremely expensive knick-knacks. A man in an impeccably-tailored suit looks down his nose at you from behind the counter and sniffs haughtily.

"Wow," you say, "this is really high-class merchandise for a shop on the Wrong Side of the Tracks."

The clerk gives you a withering look. "I assure you, we are most certainly not on the Wrong Side. We are in fact as far as it is possible to be on the Right Side."

"I... see. And yet you're hidden in a dingy back-alley with no foot traffic?"

He sniffs again. "We like it that way. It maintains exclusivity. Now, are you here to purchase something, or are you merely" (here his voice drips with venom) "window-shopping?"

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cinnamon cannoli