I whipped out my trusty roll of duct tape and began binding the dead man’s feet to the ground. Shuri watched me inquisitively. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Taping this man’s feet to the ground. So they don’t blow away,” I explained, as though it weren’t obvious. “I took his hot shoes.” Shuri refrained from asking any further questions as I finished ensuring the man’s feet were safe in this cruel, hard world.
Upon completion, the two of us traveled west back to the shore and continued down the path for some time until we reached a small log-cabin-style building. A sign hanging above the door read “Pandora’s Island Trading Post”. We had visited the trading post before in our travels. Though it appeared abandoned, it was constantly observed by tiny invisible gremlins that were ready to flay the skin from your body if you tried to walk off with something without leaving something else. Occasionally Bill Gates would come and buy everything in order to destabilize the economy. I entered the building and examined the items I was carrying and the items that lay on the ground.
For Trade
Inventory
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