“I might have something that’ll help,” the traveling apothecary said.
He jumped down from the driver’s seat, and signaled to his assistant to retrieve something from one of the chests in the rear.
The assistant produced a small vial and handed it to his master.
The hooded customer grunted in disgust at the black, dense liquid that swirled inside the small glass container.
“This elixir is made with quite a rare mushroom—Algernon’s cap.” The apothecary grinned. “It will give you the intellectual powers you seek.”
The hooded traveler snatched the vial from the apothecary’s hands and tossed him a gold coin. He inspected it closely, then unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the old man. “If this doesn’t work, I will cut you down where you stand.”
The apothecary nodded.
The traveler drank the potion in a single gulp.
A few tense seconds passed. Then, the man clutched his belly, grimaced, turned around, and dashed towards the woods—diarrhea streaming down his pants.
“What a goddamn idiot,” the apothecary said to his assistant. “Let’s get the hell out of here before he comes back.”
— Bastian Espada