A back room with a folding card table and little light was the setting for her business. It should have been quick and easy tonight but no, she had to get something strange instead. The Fairest sighed as she tried to get her client back on track, "Okay, okay. I guess it'll help deal with your, uh, problem," Circe really didn't know how to answer what the guy had asked. Seriously, she did not care why this guy wanted a gun. Or what he thought he was shooting at: "I'm sure the little green-"


"Grey! Not the green ones. Green are tall and hunt greys so I don't mind them. Its the little greys you have to worry about," the frazzled looking man was not the sanest looking person right now. The constant twitching and eyes darting about didn't help. Circe was sure if an Autumn had been around they'd be drinking up the Glamour from the guy. "Yes yes, green are good but grey! Grey is vile."


"Yeah okay, green is good. Like the color of money. Which you do have. Right?" Circe took a step back and held up a hand to stop the man from getting closer.


"Grey is, uh, what? I know green is good," the man actually had tried to take a step towards her before noticing where her hands were. One stretched out to say stop, but the other was in her jacket. That caught his attention: "What?"


"Greenbacks. Dinero. Moolah. Clams. Cash! Do. You. Have. It?" Circe was getting annoyed with this guy. The man huffed, puffing up his chest like an angry toddler about to have a tantrum: "Money? Money? Is that all you care about?"


"Duh! This is a business."


"What?! No its not its a-"


"Dude! This is capitalism at its finest. I don't care what ya are gonna do with the product, only that you buy the product. If you can't buy then don't be here. You do not have to tell me your life story. You do not have to tell me what the product is for. You do have to be able to pay for the product," Circe kept her voice firm but the rage was starting to build up. Circe was easy going for a Summer, but there she had limits. This level of stupidity was crossing her's.


"Oh. That is rude," the man deflated, "You could at least listen to what I have to say," The elf cut him off, "That is not what I am paid for. Ya ain't got the money to pay me to listen either. No. You pay for a product. Or you leave. Can. You. Pay?" she had started growling words at this stupid mortal.


"Yes. I have money. Here!" The frazzled mortal slapped a half dozen $100 bills onto the table, "You could have at least told me the type of bullets that will pierce alien flesh." Circe checked the bills and they looked real enough for her.


"Dude, I don't care enough. Besides if they're as small as ya say the kick'll knock them down anyway," Circe handed over a banged up revolver. Unloaded of course, she was taking no chances with this nutter. Not that he'd paid for bullets anyway.


"Can't it be something fancier?"


"Yes."


There was a awkward silence. Finally then man asked, "And?"


"Quality costs more dude."


The man left in a huff, muttered something about green hound faced aliens eating her. Circe was fairly sure the Saturday Night special would work. She'd tweaked it with her new kit but it was still beat up. She was just glad to be rid of such a shitty piece.