Idiot adventurer. He should have saved the 800 cheese wheels in case he needed to eat them at the final boss, then during the fight forget he has them.
Who sees a pile of cheese wheels and thinks they’re in a restaurant? It’s clearly a cheese shop.
C: Any Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance.
O: No.
C: Lipta?
O: No.
C: Lancashire?
O: No.
C: White Stilton?
O: No.
C: Danish Brew?
O: No.
C: Double Goucester?
O: (pause) No.
C: Cheshire?
O: No.
C: Dorset Bluveny?
O: No.
C: Cheddar?
O: No. We don’t get much call for it.
C: But it’s the single most popular cheese in the world!
O: Not around here, sir.
Split the difference, it’s a cheese-taurant. You can have cheese, cheese, cheese, spam, or cheese. And they’re out of spam.
You mean you want cheese, cheese, cheese, Spam and cheese without the Spam?
I don’t like spam!
Not because we don’t have Spam, but because we can’t find it under all of the cheese.
Somewhere under that pile is a single can of spam, but its ring pull has broken off.
Well, how about a little Red Leicester?
At some point, even a willing merchant should offer lower per-item payouts.
“I like you enough to go x over wholesale” only goes so far, and yeah, damn near everyone has an absolute limit on what they would expect to be able to offload in the next century. Likely a much lower limit than you would expet. Repeatedly selling the same thing should eventually invoke “I’ll take one or two this time, but for the rest, you should probably visit x, who I sold that last truckload too, or x, who I had to PAY to haul it away. You now owe me money, btw.”
There’s definitely a point where “selling goods” transforms into “offloading junk”, especially when it comes to perishables.
Like man, you just brought in 500 cabbages that I watched you pick out of that farm over there. No, I’m not giving you full price for each of them.
No. They should never, ever, ever change this.
