You cautiously approach your new guide. Wait, you said you didn't want him to be your guide? The friendly clown strongly advises you to reconsider. (You do not reconsider.)
You ask him who he is, but he maintains his cryptic, serene expression in perfect silence. You give some thought to sidling away from the awkward encounter and go inside, when the clown finally speaks up.
He wants to know if you would like to buy these motherfuckin potions.
You examine the clown's wares with due skepticism. He assures you that all of his wicked elixirs are motherfuckin magic and all that. The clown sure likes to say motherfuck a lot. It is making you feel uneasy.
The first question that pops into your head while examining this fellow of course is, where did he get that outrageous outfit??? You don't really have the gumption to ask, but if you had to take a wild guess, you are almost certain the answer would be hand-waved away with the word "shenanigans." See, look? He is waving his hand preemptively, as if reading your mind. Truly, this clown is wise.
BRONZE POTION - 420 BOONDOLLARS The clown says one sip of this potion will cause you to lose the use of your legs. HOWEVER, you will become an EXCELLENT kisser. A trade that is more than motherfuckin fair, he says. Personally, you think someone would have to be suicidal to drink that heinous brown liquid.
Buy BRONZE POTION? →←
Absolutely not. The clown appears crestfallen, then counters with another offer: buy one bottle, get one free! You scowl at him as if he is quite mad. He gets the picture. You're not interested. He then gives you a few bottles of the stuff and says he'll just put it on your tab, no worries. ;o)
You buy 1 BRONZE POTION. It's like a brown nightmare in a bottle. When the clown isn't looking, you chuck it over the side of your house-cliff.
FUSCHIA POTION - 420 BOONDOLLARS This lovely looking potion is supposed to have powerful healing properties. A must-have in the inventory of an up and coming Maid of Life.
Buy FUSCHIA POTION? →←
You don't want it. But the clown REALLY thinks you should take at least one of these handy elixirs. He won't take no for an answer. You say fine, and buy a few just to shut him up.
You acquiesce to a single FUSCHIA POTION. Yippee. Pointless pink slop.
INDIGO POTION - 420 BOONDOLLARS He says this potion will make you STRONG. You guess it would be pretty handy to be STRONG. Except that it's probably bullshit and the potion doesn't do that at all.
Buy INDIGO POTION? →←
He looks taken aback that you could refuse such a valuable commodity. He says no, you gotta buy this motherfuckin shit. It's the hottest fuckin noise since a big tittied ninja. Ok, whatever you say clown, here's your stupid boondollars. He gives you like 50 of these things? Jesus Christ.
You buy an INDIGO POTION and shrug. Now THERE'S something you won't be drinking any time soon.
OLIVE POTION - 420 BOONDOLLARS This gross looking pea soup elixir is touted as a powerful love potion! Just sneak a few drops into the beverage of your object of affection, and he or she will fall head over heels for you. Literally, in the event that your sweetheart-to-be is decapitated. You are very wary of this claim of course, but... you guess it couldn't hurt to have ONE bottle on hand.
Buy OLIVE POTION? →←
You refuse. But the clown spots the look of longing in your eye, and knows a lovestruck lady when he sees one. The kind fellow gives you 1 OLIVE POTION on the house. You blush a little and say thank you.
You buy 1 OLIVE POTION. Ugh, this stuff looks nasty. You are going to have to sneak it into an especially strong drink if you don't want Jake to notice. Wait, did you say Jake? You mean of course hypothetically any person you give this to, strictly in the name of science. Uh. Yeah. This conversation is over!!!
VIOLET POTION - 420 BOONDOLLARS This potion is to be imbibed by anyone who wants to exhibit unabated lust for all he or she encounters, as well as to behave like more of a douche bag. You wonder why anyone would want that. He gives you a sly wink, and says nothing more. You say no thanks. But he asks you if you want to buy it anyway.
Buy VIOLET POTION? →←
You ask him if he's flipped his friggin' cod piece. Of course you don't want it. He says, ah, but you must. He insists. He gives you 20 bottles for free. Then he says that will be whatever 420 times 20 boondollars is. You let out a heavy sigh, say fine, and fork over the money.
You snap up a VIOLET POTION. Sure, why the hell not. Might as well round out your collection of this useless slime.
COBALT POTION - 420 BOONDOLLARS He claims this potion endows its drinker with incredible luck! Then he does a stupid looking jig on your fridge, clicking the heels of his dumb elf shoes. You find that a bit hard to swallow. Not just because it's implausible, but because that blue muck is straight up nasty. He doesn't get the joke.
Buy COBALT POTION? →←
In a motion so swift you didn't even follow, he grabs your hand, pushes a bottle of cobalt into your palm, and closes your fingers over it. As you begin to object, he puts his fingers over your lips and whispers shoosh. That'll be 420 motherfuckin boonies yo.
He tucks another 420 of your hard earned loot into his cavernous codpiece and gives you a bottle of the blue stuff. Good motherfuckin choice, he says. You roll your eyes.
GOLD POTION - 420 BOONDOLLARS This sickly mustard goo is supposed to make your hacking skills go bananas. Like you would ever care about that. He says not so fast though, for its benefits are TWOFOLD. It also makes a pretty killer substitute for grub sauce in a pinch.
Buy GOLD POTION? →←
You tell this clown to go take a long walk off a short cliff. He pretends not to hear you and restates his offer. You are getting kind of fed up with this idiot so you purchase yet more useless bottles of liquid. Are we done here bro??
Whatever. You buy one, flip the clown another cool 420. You wonder why they're all that price? What's the deal with that number, anyway? Poor, naive Jane. You have no idea how that number culturally means SMOKIN WEED, and how stoners think it's funny. You are a smart girl, but there are some things you don't understand, and that makes you more endearing.
Good grief, look at that magnificent codpiece. It is absolutely transfixing. You don't want to stare, but how it arrests the eye. It's hard to look away, but you somehow find the wherewithal to pry your eyes from its prodigious heft. The clown catches you staring, and his smile broadens a bit.