B is for Bargain Banter

A/N: Hello, whoever's reading this, and welcome to the second oneshot of ABC Tratie. Read on, and please review.

"Gardner."

"Stoll."

"What are you doing here, and where is your slightly less pathetic little brother?"

"Was that an attempt at humor? Because, you know, my slightly pathetic-ier brother is funnier than that. Not amusing at all. "

"Like you're one to talk. No one thinks you're funny, they just want to get more of your cheap convenience store snacks."

"You must be confused. I am funny. I make people happy with my beautiful puns. YOU are not funny, and YOU make people...barf in their mouths."

"Your excuses are ridiculously immature. I don't see how you're semi-godly at all."

"They're not excuses, and they're better than yours, at any rate."

"Ridiculous...We digress. Answer my questions."

"What questions?"

"Har. Har. Har."

"I take it that you are the exception to my 'everyone thinks I'm funny' rule?"

"Travis, no one's obeying your rules. Didn't you hear me?"

"I'll just get my far more pathetic brother to enforce them."

"Far less. Now answer me."

"I am here to buy something, because that is what most sane people do at flea markets. My brother is buying something, because he is sane, although I am saner. And measurably awesomer."

"So modest."

"So I hear. Now excuse me. I have things to buy."

"Sure. No one is stopping you."

"Erm...Katie...why are you following me?"

"What? I came here to buy, too. Ugh, you're so self centered...stop smirking, Travis."

"I meant to the exact same stall as me at the exact same time.

"I wanted a...rock, too...this is...very...solid..."

"First rule-if you want to lie to me, lie skillfully."

"And if I don't?

"If you don't, I will gather a crack squad of highly trained professional fruit-stompers to march down to your fields, armed with machetes and those ginormous balls they hurl in the Olympics, and chop down all of your strawberries, then burn your very flammable wooden cabin down, dig a pit there, then bury the remains of your toils...in the pit. Then we will proceed to track d-"

"AHHHH!"

"Am I that scary...why, of course I am."

"Not that-are you so rat-brained that you can't see the VENDORS turning into...into..."

"I believe the term you are looking for is Kobaloi."

"Gods, speed up!"

"They're-goblins-that-eat-bad-kids!"

"Oh, okay."

"Why are you stopping?"

"They'll just target you, right?"

"Katie, they judge their victims by scent, and you probably smell like me. I suggest you run."

"That...that was fun."

"TRAVIS. We narrowly avoided being swallowed by minuscule morphing market vendors. That was not FUN."

"Not narrowly."

"What?"

"Didn't you notice they weren't following us? They're lazy monsters...oh-my-gods-Katie-my neck!"

"TRAVIS!"

"please-stop-choking-me...That's better."

"You know, you may be right."

"Huh?"

"That WAS kinda...OH MY GODS WHERE'S CONNOR?"