Explorus Innuendous Colossus

Trixie cocked an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“As if it weren’t something special,” the stallion - and he was quite definitely a stallion - said, his voice caught between pride and affront.

“It’s not very big.” Trixie snorted with a harsh little laugh. She poked at the thing with a hoof only to have the colt shoo her off before she could touch it, huffing as he did so.

“I’ll have you know, missy, that there is more to these things than size. I love and nurture mine more than any of those other one-trick ponies around. I actually know to use it, too, which is more than those other goofballs can say. One hundred bits.”

Trixie glared at the thing which, from a certain angle, seemed to glare back. “Twenty bits. Trixie has done perfectly well by herself without needing one of these in her life.”

The stallion choked, then caught her seriousness. After a moment’s dumbstruck gazing, he laughed, one that shook the air and in particular the merchandise in question. For her part Trixie ignored the stallion, opting instead to eye his piece warily.

“Twenty? Twenty? I don’t know where you’re from, ma’am, but around here we have some dignity.” Realizing he was souring the deal, the colt sighed. “Look, I don’t care what you think you want or don’t want, that’s not my business. But you walked in that door, so clearly you have some interest in what I’ve got...what you’re still looking at, excuse me, my eyes are up here. That’s better. You wouldn’t get the time of day for twenty bits, or even a piece of this. Ninety five bits, because I think you’re confused.”

Indeed Trixie was, though she’d never have admitted it, least of all to herself. “...a piece of it? Why would the Great and Powerful Trixie want just a piece? That’s just foalish.”

Maybe it was her momentary vulnerability that softened the colt’s expression. “Bit of a nickname, huh?” he asked, nodding wistfully. “Been like that for me too, being named Morning Wood.” Without too much overt change, his expression went from soft to hard. “You still ain’t touching or taking it ‘til you paid though, even if you have a funny name. Tell you what: ninety bits.”

Trixie peered at the grinning stallion. “Forty.”

“Eighty.”

“Forty five.”

“Seventy..”

Her expression entirely unchanged, Trixie did nothing more. After a few seconds, the colt felt a few various patches of sweat form from her withering glare.

“Look, because you particularly seem to need it: sixty bits, and that’s me being generous.”

“Deal.” She flung the bag of bits at him, but it was the hastiness with which Trixie took the prize in her mouth that nearly made the colt go cross-eyed.

The bell over the door was already jingling as he came back to himself.

“...enjoy your ‘magic’ wand, then.”