Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

“Ann. Therein lies the tale of my foolishness,” cried the proprietor wringing his hands. “In my blind confidence, I sank my entire holdings into my inventory. As a result, I starve in the midst of plenty. My customers know this and rob me in my vulnerable times. I lose money on every sale, but a man must eat.”

“Actually,” Aahz interrupted, “we’re looking for something in a deep shag wall-to-wall carpet.”

“What’s that? … I mean, do not confuse poor Abdul so, my humble business….”

“Come off it, Abdul … or should I say Frumple.” Aahz grinned his widest grin. “We know who you are and what you are. We’re here to do a little business.”

At his words, the proprietor moved with a swiftness I would not have suspected him capable of. He was at the door in a bound, throwing a bolt and lowering a curtain which seemed to be of a substance even more strange than that of his rugs.

“Where’d you learn your manners!” he snarled back over his shoulder in a voice quite unlike the one used by the whiney proprietor. “I’ve got to live in this town, you know.”

“Sorry,” Aahz said, but he didn’t sound at all apologetic.

“Well, watch it next time you come barging in and start throwing my name around. People here are not particularly tolerant of strange beings or happenings.”

He seemed to be merely grumbling to himself, so I seized the opportunity to whisper to Aahz.

“Psst. Aahz. What’s a wall-to-wall….”

“Later, kid.”

“You!” The proprietor seemed to see me for the first time. “You’re the statue! I didn’t recognize you moving.”