“I dunno, man. I don't have much money to spare. A hundred bucks for a sword?”

“Well, if you want, I'll lower the price to fifty!” the man indignantly replied. “Do you want the sword or not?”

“I…” My wallet would still be considerably lighter. A third of my money, gone. “Look, it's a cool sword and all, but-”

“All right, fine! Twenty-five, take it or leave it!”

It wasn't going to get any better than this, and it was a cool sword. “Sold.”

When I gave the change to him and he gently, excitedly picked up the sword, I was trembling, like I was about to get struck by lightning upon contact. He gently, gently, with a knowing gleam in his eye, laid the weapon in my hands.

Nothing whatsoever happened.

The man's expression deteriorated to a disappointed demeanor. “Huh. That's strange. I could have thought…” He took the sword out of my hands and put it in my hands again, like he was expecting something to happen.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“It was supposed to work,” he muttered.

“What was supposed to work? Should I check the batteries, or…”

The man exhaled through his nose and put his hands on his hips. “Nothing. You just...take the sword. Go ahead.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay, I'm gonna...go…”

He waved me off in annoyance. “Have a nice day.”

And I walked off, clutching the awesome sword in my white-knuckled hands.

Before I could walk all the way away, I heard the man furiously kick his display table and angrily bellow, "DANG IT!"

Author's Note

If you're still reading, congratulations. You should get some sort of award for sticking it out this long with a Displaced story. Even a story that picks apart Displaced stories like a chicken wing.

Now go read the rest, or something.

Oh, and I almost forgot the obligatory:

MAKE SURE TO COMMENT AND FAVORITE THIS AWESOME STORY IF YOU WANT MORE OF MY BLEACH CROSSOVER FANFIC I LOVE YOU AAAAALLLLLLLLL