Ethereal Stories: Daily life of a potion shop

The other day, I was eating with people from my theater group. One of the girls started talking about her job as a pharmacist. It was really boring but it inspired me this little story. Good reading!

— Hello, I need a potion of… of…

I leave my register and gauge the client who continues to search for his words. His hands are nervous. Stuffed in his pockets, they move like puppets. Uncomfortably, his mine jumps from shelf to shelf, looking for a label that would have the courtesy to tell him what he is looking for. His eyes splay across his face, swampy globules that flutter like mosquitoes. I see that his big round jaw is directly connected to his neck, he chews in the void a desire to eat his lips so as not to admit his reason for being here. Probably the first time he has ventured into this kind of store. He reminds me of the last time I sold a toad transfiguration extract.

— You see… A potion for… for my…
— They’re at the back of the store, next to the breast enlargement elixirs, you can’t miss them.

A feeling of embarrassment sets in. I feel like he wants to kiss me to thank me. I’m flattered, but I’d have to turn him into a dildo if he approaches me. He seems to grasp the silent threat and changes his mind, contenting himself with a bumbling thank you and a curtsey before trotting off in the direction indicated. I should consider putting up a sign with a rod as an arrow to help guide them.

— Hmm, hm! Good morning !
I turn around, and have to look down to notice a small boy with clenched fists. Her hair looks like an egg running down her skull. A rough mix of yellow and white with a flyaway streak right in the middle. He wears a bed sheet that he has recycled into a toga, giving him the appearance of a Roman senator. With his wrathful expression, I expect any second to be the subject of gladiator-style condemnation:

— Are you okay little one? You got lost ?
— I’m seventy, moron! Get off your perch a bit so I can make you pay for the poison you sold me.

The hoarse and damaged voice of this baby face reminds me of something. I remember selling an extract to a face of the same kind covered with a hundred more wrinkles and spots. I should have teleported the shop to another city after the inventory.

— What is this about ?
— As if you didn’t know that!

Two days ago, I came for a rejuvenation potion. I had unearthed a thirty-year-old godiche, not shy, I wanted to surprise her. You sold it to me guaranteeing me that I would find all my ardor, enough to make the bed shake… I drank the vial… Have you ever tried to fuck with a maggot as a sword?
I feel it ready to attack me, it vibrates dangerously like dynamite just waiting to explode. However, one of the side effects of this drink is the possible transmission of rabies by oral contact. I should think about marking it on the manual for that matter.

— Madame was not satisfied with the product?
— She burst out laughing when she saw me and knocked herself out on the edge of the bed.

— Nothing serious ?

— No idea, I just ran here to solve this problem. So, do you worry that I can find her then! I took viagra, and it’s starting to sting!
Indeed, I see at the level of his crotch that the cocktail seems to do its work.
— All I can recommend is to wait for the effects of the magic to wear off. A few hours should be enough.

— No, no, no and no! I want to get laid, damn it!
To observe a child jumping around, mad with rage and chanting this has something unrealistic about it. For other customers. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the second of the day.

— You will find me a solution, immediately!
The boy pulls out a gun and points it at me. I’m relieved, I don’t have the right to use witchcraft against an intrusive client, but the rule is quite different when I’m threatened. I smile, and snap my fingers. Immediately, a hole makes the floor disappear and swallows the youngster who lets out a cry of surprise. A few hours with his darkest fears should calm down. It reminds me of my childhood.

— Hello !
In front of me is a familiar-faced customer. The pricked nose, the plump eyes and the mouth which causes a small noise of wings each time he bites his lips. He looks like a penguin bobbing with his belly taut like a drum. I wonder if he uses the latter to make his vocalists by hitting on it. From his ridiculous clumsy stampings, he turns impatiently in all directions.

— What can I do for you ? You seem to me in a better mood.

I remember our discussions during his previous visit. The poor bird was persuaded to be cuckolded by his wife. Much smarter and funnier, apparently, he had managed to seduce her at the time thanks to his considerate unhealthy kindness. The problem is that this had had some perverse effects in their couple, in particular having a separate bedroom so as not to disturb the lady any longer because of her guttural snoring. Obviously, the sexual relations had become rare thereafter. Over time, gnawed by his fear of infidelity, he ended up coming to my shop to ask me for a polymorphism potion so that he could take on the appearance of a colleague of his wife with the airs of Adonis that he suspected of being her lover. From his good looks, I deduce that…

— Tremendous ! Everything is going much better with my partner thanks to you!
— Glad to hear that. You could see for yourself that you were on the wrong track about it.

— Absolutely not ! This bitch was indeed cheating on me with this Gregory for months when I confronted him in this form.
He keeps a radiant smile, I think I lost track somewhere.
— I… And you… Are you all right?”

— If you knew ! We hadn’t made love like this for years! This savagery with which she straddled me… You cannot imagine.
— But… At that moment, were you really under the appearance of the lover?”

— Whatever ! I realize that she can deceive me as much as she wants, since I am the person with whom she commits her crime. I’m not going to be jealous of myself, after all.
There is indeed an implacable logic to such reasoning. However, something bothers me:
— But… What about this Grégory?

His face takes on an embarrassed color:

— That’s why I need your help again. I need to renew my stock of potions…
— To continue this adulterous relationship with yourself?”

— Not only … You see, after a whole night of passion with my companion, we began to discuss, at length. At dawn, we came to the conclusion that it was no longer possible for her to remain imprisoned in a marriage that made her so unhappy. So we decided that we had to kill her husband.

— So you ?
— Not exactly… I have to admit that since I had the real Grégory kidnapped, he’s been a little cumbersome in my cellar. He moaned a lot, my companion could eventually find out and understand the pot of roses. So, I said to myself, why not transform it into myself, the time of the murder, in order to get rid of it with my wife as an accomplice? Clever, isn’t it? Thus, we will finally be free to continue our idyll as before.

Words fail me. I could judge him for this folly, but this little business could secure me a steady income with a client engaged in such a charade for years. And then, who am I to decree what is right or wrong? I’m just an ordinary small trader, after all. Nothing more.