"My potions can do anything you can," said the Potion Seller.
The Knight mulled over this statement for a while. "I can cook breakfast?"
The Potion Seller scoffed. "Pancake batter in a bottle."
"I can snuggle up with you and keep you warm at night?"
"A nice bottle of brandy."
"I can entertain you over dinner with my witty conversation?"
The Potion Seller scowled. "Are you trying to ask me out on a date?"
"Well, that's definitely something your potions can't do, isn't it?" asked the Knight, triumphantly, right before the Potion Seller threw him out of the store.
"Potion Seller," said the Knight. "I am going into battle and I want your strongest potion."
The Potion Seller considered. He was, it had to be said, in a fairly good mood. "Naked?" he asked.
The Knight frowned. "What?"
"Are you going into battle naked?"
"So you're bringing this up now because ... ?"
"Ah," said the Knight. "I thought we might work out a trade. Something along the lines of, say, you give me your strongest potions and I'll do this."
The Potion Seller produced a noise. It was not a particularly dignified noise.
"Or maybe this," said the Knight.
The Potion Seller produced another noise. This, too, was not particularly dignified.
"Well?" said the Knight.
"Get the fuck out of my bed and come back when you've taken some classes," said the Potion Seller.
"Traveller, you can't handle my strongest potions," intoned the Potion Seller solemnly. "My strongest potions would kill a dragon."
The Knight beamed at him. "Excellent. That's just what I need. I'll take two."
"But - "
"Potion Seller. I am going into battle against a dragon. I need your strongest potions."
"Oh," said the Potions Seller. "Well. In that case." He put a small, red bottle on the counter.
The Knight grabbed it, pulled the stopper, tipped his head back, swallowed the contents and promptly exploded while yelling, "AAAARGH" at a very high volume.
The Potions Seller sighed and went to the door to flip the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'.
After that, he went to look for his strongest healing potion and, just in case, a dustbin.
The Knight stared at the display and frowned. " 'Weak Potions for Weaklings Who Had Sworn Never to Set Foot in My Store Ever Again'? Seriously?"
The Potion Seller smiled at him winningly and, the Knight couldn't help but think, a touch maniacally.
The Knight sighed. "Potion Seller," he said, "I am not going into battle. Therefore, I do not need your potions. I just came by to tell you - to tell you - "
The Knight lifted his chin. "You're a rascal and I'm never going to set foot in your store ever again."
"Right," said the Potion Seller. "Dinner tonight, then, usual time, usual place?"
"Potion Seller, I am going into battle, and I need your strongest potions."
"You can't handle my strongest potions, traveller. My strongest potions would kill you."
The Knight sighed. "Do we have to go through this every time? Potion Seller, listen. I'm going into battle, and I need your potions."
A brief silence.
"You forgot 'strongest'," said the Potion Seller. "You want only my strongest potions."
"Well," said the Knight. "It's only, you know, a small battle. More of a skirmish, really. If that. Honestly, I think it's all a bit silly - some argument over a chicken. Or an egg."
"I see," said the Potion Seller. "So this is really more of a social visit."
"No, no," the Knight protested. "I really do want your potions. I'm just saying that it doesn't absolutely have to be your strongest potions. Your second-strongest will be fine. Or third-strongest."
"My third-strongest potions aren't fit for a beast, let alone a man." The Potion Seller grimaced.
"Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?" the Knight said, sympathetically. "Look, why don't you just slip me a little something under the counter - whatever you've got is fine. I won't tell a soul, I swear. I'll be the very soul of discretion."
"I'm out," said the Potion Seller.
"I'm out," repeated the Potion Seller. "Of potions. Haven't had one in stock for over a year now."
"You mean ... "
"And when I ... "
"Oh." The Knight considered for a moment. "Sorry."
"Not your fault," said the Potion Seller. "And don't you dare come back here asking for my potions again. You know full well my strongest potions would kill you."
"Right. Gotcha. Er. I'll never set foot in this store ever again, you rascal, you."
"Well," said the Potion Seller. "I missed you."
"Ye-es," said the Knight, trying not to look smug and failing.
The Potion Seller scowled at him. "So I brewed a potion."
The Knight frowned. "A potion," he repeated. "You brewed a potion." He looked towards the front of the store. To the counter. His eyes widened slightly. "A cloning potion?"
"I'm very good in bed," snipped the Potion Seller. "And I already know what I like. It was a brilliant idea. Sheer genius."
"Oh," said the Knight. "I mean, yes. I agree. Completely. Do go on."
"Go on with what?" the Potion Seller asked, his tone annoyed. "That's it. That's the whole story."
"So it worked, right? With the - " The Knight gestured, then lowered his voice. "In bed?"
The Potion Seller glared. "What part of 'he's scaring away all my customers' didn't you understand? I need that thing back into his bottle and I need it now. You're the Knight - do something!"
"First, can I just - "
"Not in the store, you can't," said the Potion Seller quickly.
"Oh, absolutely. Not in the store. Wouldn't dream of it," said the Knight. "Well, okay. Fine. Let's do this. Er, I hate to bring this up, but if he's like you, I uh - I might need a bit of help. I mean, there's going to be two of you and only one of me, so, you know."
The Potion Seller offered him a flat, unfriendly look. "Help?"
The Knight lifted his chin. "Potion Seller, I'm going into battle. I need your strongest potions."
"Fine," said the Potion Seller. "If you can still remember your own name tomorrow morning, you will have them. Regular price, mind."
"Cool," said the Knight who was, it must be noted, nameless, and doomed to remain so forever more.
But that is a story for another time.