A very expensive leather headrest for a Bebubu Nox Raeda. Designed and developed as a sportback model. Pareo Magazine describes it as a sexy companion where the zenith of luxury and elegance meets. It’s up in the air what they meant by “companion” but certain historians reason that it must mean that the headrest was alive at one point. Empiricists propose that they were simply using a different definition of the word.

Ah, carhead, are you? Must be nice to be satisfied with the state of things. This here’s been laying around for a bit. It’s what’s left of the car. Nice though, isn’t it? Does quite well for a makeshift pillow if you find yourself reliant on concrete mattresses.

A double-sided racket. Known as the most versatile of the rackets, it demands creativity and flexibility from its wielder in exchange for freedom. The hero frees those that are cursed with destiny, self-imposed or otherwise.

The prophecy states that nobody is worthy of the racket. Despite this, it refuses to cooperate with me KEKEKEKEKE

A twenty-sided die with eights for all sides. Imbued with magical capabilities that’s said to bestow its roller with unimaginable riches should it roll a twenty. Bruised on all corners, the die has seen plenty of rolls throughout its lifetime. It has never rolled a twenty, but it exudes a gravitating aura as the possibility of the promise persists.

Meh. Bloody die. Don’t do nothing. It never do no nothing. Don’t buy. Don’t buy. It don’t do nothing. I roll. Never do nothing. I always roll. Don’t do nothing. Just a die. Don’t buy. Just a die. Bought it from a fortune teller. I asked her what the deal was and she said this was a die that allowed you to predict your own future. I said, how? She said, what number y’reckon it’ll roll? It’s a fucking eighth.

A mystical bell whose ring triggers the immediate orgasm of all those that listen. Found in an unmarked grave in the woods, theorized to be buried to subdue its evil from the world. It is said to consume the lives of all that own it. Its previous owners claim that they can hear the bell call out to them long after they manage to part with it.

KEKEKE Found this in the woods amongst countless empty dug up holes. Works a charm, this. Be careful. Lest you fancy seeing me stalk your mirrors KEKEKE

Priceless commodity that gets rarer by the day. Most seem to take no interest in it, however.

Gross. She bought tons of them. More than she needed and could afford because the company making them was starting to go under. They’ve been shut down for years now.

A thimble that turns rocks into pennies. Found on the finger of a dead man under a bridge. Marketed as an item that would reward you proportional to your efforts, some deride the lack of successful users as a symbol of common indolence.


Conversion rate table:

Fancy riches, adventurer? KEKEKEKE

A bundle of four roses perfect for a windowsill. They’re a special type of rose that takes years and years to bloom completely. Botanists theorize that should they ever take full form then they would be considered the most beautiful flowers in the world. Critics argue that the only reason that is believed is because we’ve spent so long waiting for them to bloom that we’ve convinced ourselves that they must be beautiful lest we waste our time.

Meh. Ugly bunch.

The number one selling album. Critics and audience praised it alike, claiming “there’s nothing about it to hate, unless, of course, you hate things that possess no hateable qualities, in which case, you can hate it for that, but then it once again becomes unhateable because you can no longer hate it for being unhateable and uh, yeah, just don’t think about it, it’s a good album.”

doot doot doot. DOOT DOOT DOOT. doooooooot.

Shoddily made bracelet made with strung together bottlecaps—the beer brand logo painted over.

Ahh. Very nice bracelet. Mine. Given to me by the mother. The kid’s mother. Back then. Back back then. Awful though. Quite awful bracelet. Made fun of her, she said that was the point. Made me promise to wear it for her. Broke it though. Broke it bad. Had to fix with beer. Drank lots and lots of beer. Good as new though—bracelet. Shiny bottlecaps. New bottlecaps.

A line of kicks that was made from the skin of monolophants right after the last pack of them died. Only a few thousand of them were made, launching with an unattainable price tag for most folk. They were recalled after about a month when it was revealed that wearing the shoes had the side-effect of causing you to run indefinitely. Nobody knows where exactly but a group of Seeing Stars users with too much time on their hands were able to clock the direction each shoe was headed and found that the projected lines intersected at a place dubbed the end of the world. Some theorize that this is due to the monolophants trying to reunite with their kin, some believe that some lingering spirit of the monolophants are trying to fulfill their telos, some believe that the shoes compel its wearers to be heroes, some believe its the monolophants trying to get revenge, some believe it’s all of the above. They appeared back at the black market at an even higher price tag. A Seeing Stars user bought one online and mentioned that the person he was buying it from asked to meet him behind a specific bank because they didn’t have much time in their lunch break.

I found this pair dragging a dead body near the ocean. I haven’t worn it, of course.

A very expensive watch that moves significantly slower than a regular clock. Stylish and embossed with real gold. Light bounces and twinkles off the metals and it radiates energy. Turning the knob on the side generates a powerful ball of energy that can frighten most enemies that don’t know any better. It’s a mere illusion, of course, but you can bluff superpowers.

For some reason, every time I put it on, the second hand starts moving faster than the speed of sound.

A wallpaper of space. An optical illusion causes it to appear 3D and in motion. Stars will swirl and twinkle around you, comet trails will permeate the room like pixie dust, nebulae will chase your limbs, the abyss will extend and pulsate, hints of absurdist horrors will peek from the nothingness, and the true scale of things will reveal itself to you and you’ll find yourself lost in the infinity within your 108 square foot room and you’ll never be able to escape.

This fashion forward wallpaper is sure to impress all your friends.

Quite comfy KEKEKE

A device that measures someone’s vibe frequency. Most clubs use one on you to check if you’re compatible. In high school, cafeteria tables were divided by different vibe levels. University algorithms take your vibe frequency into account when assigning you to a dorm room. Social media and dating apps vibe checks you in order to determine which posts or profiles to show you. Surprisingly, society generally doesn’t use the device for job interviews as the device proved no worth according to financial analytics.

I detect your vibes to be off! KEKEKEKE

Literally just a lever. It has a bright and colorful knob with neon flashing lights that emit a sort of magnetism that compels one to attach the lever to something and pull. Attach to what, no one’s entirely sure, but anything seems to be as good an answer as anything else. Most who have tried it have reported that it doesn’t do anything of note but it serves as a fun, if slightly maddening, way to spend an afternoon. Some, however, swear by the lever and continue to pull it with the firm belief that something will happen at some point. When asked what that something is, a variety of answers has been given but a common theme seems to be: freedom.

Ahh, one of my favorite items. Saddens me to have to part with it but I can no longer afford to keep it around. Why I’m selling all these items, see. Worry less, I’ll be sure to find another one ‘soon as I find the means. Then if I get lucky maybe I’ll be able to quit selling myself to schmucks like you KEKEKEKE.

An empty piggy bank with wings. True to the creature it's molded after, it does not fly. If you press your ear onto the coinhole, you can hear the sound of distant memories—faint and distorted. Some amongst them were the sound of wheels skidding, a crying EKG monitor, industrial clashes, confessed romantic feelings, piano notes accompanied by a mumbled elegy, and the sound of repetitive nothingness. There’s a DUX logo on the heel of its left hind leg.

Pretty good handiwork all things considered, right? This smug little number was given to me on my first day at DUX. Said it’s where I would store all that I owed and once I had enough to pay them off, I would finally be free. KEKEKEKE Smashed it to bits after, they did. Hated it there. Wouldn’t take me back even after I put it back together. Hated it there so much. But what else is there? This? Meh. Hate it so much.

An empty inhaler that’s seen a lot of use, though it hasn’t been touched in quite some time. There’s dry blood stains on the mouthpiece, where remnants of the past’s smog would still leak occasionally. Forged at DUX, the handiwork of perfectionist routine shines through its expertly crafted base form despite the numerous dents and scratches it has now endured.

Always rough with his items, that cunt. I mean, seriously, what kind of money did he think we have? Faulty thing, that now. The DUX smog filled the cartridge through the broken bits. Can never fully get rid of ‘em too. Still, sometimes I inhale just for the hell of it KEKEKEKE

Ahh, very perceptive. Matches mine, it does. KEKEKEKE. No, that one isn’t mine. Old friend. Promise. Gave one to each other when we were kids. I promised. I did. Promised her. I tried. Really did.

Stay free.

Ah, twas gifted to me by a stranger, this. Ran into him on the corner of tenth and zeroth. Stuck to his phone, the little lad, said he was waiting for some strangers to come back. Cthulhu was consuming the eastern half of the city and they organized an impromptu army to fight the bastard. KEKEKEKE. Lad had a lot of bravado for a coward. He stayed behind to livesqueek the event and claimed that it was necessary for morale. “Fuck your legs good for, freak?” He told me, urging me to join the fight. Told him I had never been one for bloody knuckles and apocalyptic cities. He clicked his tongue, handed me these pads, and told me to at least make myself useful by spreading the word. A blood drenched stranger found his way back and collapsed in front of us. Lad took a picture and squeeked.

A hummingbird suspended inside a clamshell container, hung in the air or lack thereof. Weak rhythmic vibrations ripple through the plastic. Perhaps the hummingbird’s song is suspended in time—no one has dared to open the container for fear of losing the song forever.

Mmmmm. Curious item, this. Prom night. We ran into it on our walk home. We. This was back then. We were we. The mother. The kid’s mother. She cried. The bird was dying. I only had this magic clamshell. Now the bird lives forever. She was singing it a song. I don’t remember which. I promised I would keep it safe. I promised. How much do you want for it?

Not meant for consumption. Said to be from crystalized fairy sweat, it helps get rid of dead skin cells, absorb dirt and toxins, and some believe that it can even grant one the ability to fly. Recommended for any adventurer who has their eyes set on toxic biomes. Certain Seeing Stars users have also reported that they can delay the corrupting process but most doubt the existence of corrupting let alone the salt’s ability to delay it.

Bleh. Taste like shit. I lick it every day and I keep corrupting KEKEKE. Perhaps you’ll have better luck with it.

Homemade vehicle with dreams of becoming a spaceship. Though it logically presents itself to be quite fast, it is actually excruciatingly slow, but in exchange it is a reliable vehicle that can take you to any corner of the universe with enough faith and diligence.

Ahh, made this one myself with the help of my best friend. We were young, single digits. We had dreams of seeing the stars and we made do with what little we had. District to district, worlds to worlds, we looked above and marveled at the different skies. It wasn’t until we got older that we realized that it was all the same sky, of course. We neglected the wagon at some point ‘round then and I didn’t see it for a good while. It wasn’t until recently that I saw it again, my friend rolled up to my door with it. He needed a place to stay. I punched him in the face. I told him that he was too late and that the kid was already dead. He asked about the mother and I wailed on him until I got bored. He wouldn’t leave. I watched him lay on the ground until he got bored and left. I pushed the wagon into the house to protect it from the rain. Sometimes I find my brain rotting rapidly and the voices of the idiotic brain cells get louder and I feel compelled to take the wagon and go looking for him. No good though. The wagon won’t move for me anymore.

A faceless little kid sitting on a tire swing can be made out within the smog. Shaking the smogglobe causes the kid to swing back and forth and the smog rages like a hurricane. Eventually, a couple of nurses take the kid and carry him back to the hospital.

...

Herbs said to be grown by a wizard atop the Foothill mountain which was once stuck in an infinite time loop—a time loop broken by what people theorize to be a powerful deity. It is said that the wizard now roams the world in search of a certain hero.

“You know the hero died, right? Died amongst the 40,000 when the deity eviscerated the town of Foothill.”

“I’ve seen him survive worse.”

Curious wizard that. Found him just after the Foothill rapture. Looked like he was having trouble regenerating. Looked like he was heartbroken.

A model based off of the legendary sword prophesied to save the world should it find the right hero. When wielded by anyone but, it is a blade that cannot cut. Unfortunately, many believe that it was the very same hero of legend who passed away during the Foothill rapture. The hero that trapped the evil wizard in a time loop but was forced out of it by the sheer power of a deity. It was said that he did his best to save the town but was eventually bested, some even said that the wizard helped but to no avail. Optimists believe that a hero worthy of the sword is still out there somewhere, patiently waiting to fulfill his destiny. Skeptics question whether this sword is truly anything but a dull weapon. One theory that’s rising in popularity, however, is that it truly is nothing but a dull weapon, but despite that they believe that it is a dull weapon that can nonetheless save the world.

Met this curious redheaded girl once. I made this model based off the sword she was carrying. She started babbling about looking for a hero. I said that makes two KEKEKEKE. She let me have a go at the sword, of course, but as you can see: I’m still here.

A tooth you can implant into your gums. Mostly an ordinary tooth but it supposedly gives you the ability to communicate with anyone that might be residing in your mind. It also has the benefit of giving you a distinguished smile that’s said to attract a certain type of lady.

Meh, dumb item. You can have for cheap. I already talk to the people in my head just fine.

“I love you but I can’t tolerate you.”

A random post-it note.

…

From the famous Shalin’s diner that’s situated on a desert by the trans-continental highway. It is said that the place has now been taken over by the haunting of ghosts—mindless entities that resemble formless floating dead pixels. It is unclear whether they were vagrants that simply took to the diner for housing, or if they were former employees and customers that underwent corrupting.

Was given to me by a waitress, or perhaps an ex-waitress as she seems to be a sort of vagabond nowadays—but who isn’t in this climate, really. She seemed to be in a hurry. Likely being chased KEKEKE. Lots of DUX and TRIDENT employees around. Been there done that. Bit sad though. She said she was looking for the kindness of strangers. I ain’t that.

Common spore packet that used to be available at any local retailer. The business went under as people seemed to have no trouble growing mushrooms on their own. They’ve invaded people’s homes and people’s skins and they’ve shown no signs of stopping—if you haven’t noticed any, you will, and it’s only a matter of time. In a universe that’s tearing apart, where everything refuses to make any sense, the only constant seems to be that the mushrooms will only continue to populate. Although, one user from Seeing Stars recently claimed that while he has not figured out how to kill the shrooms, he has learned to listen to them and coexist with them, and he has found that they can be much kinder than he initially thought. They also, apparently, just happen to be delicious.

KEKEKEKE Take it for free, if you wish. I’ve got plenty.

Though appearingly well-made, it is nothing more than paperweight. It has endured some wear and tear, likely due to repeated failed time travel attempts, but the foot trail of neglect is also present in the dust, rust, and feces of various creatures.

Found this in the dumpster of an apartment complex. I’ve tried it, of course. Didn’t work. Just gave me nightmares, that. Flames. Lots of flames. Car crashes. Smog. Coughs. Factory work. Drugs. Then, a phone call. Meh. Always nightmares.

Given to the shopkeep after he accidentally broke it in a fit of frustrated rage during the process of putting it together in the factory. Though its hardware is perfectly put together, the debts used to pay for its production would often find its way playing in the form of an mp3 file instead of the intended song queued up. Often the sound of a car crashing, just as often the sound of a phone call.

“I don’t know what else to say, I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“You’re a fucking dumbass.”

“What?”

“You think that’s why I’m mad at you?”

“Well you just said—”

“What? What did I just fucking say?”

“That you accidentally woke your kid up. That your husband is really
uncomfortable with me calling you at this time.”

“Oh, god, [054]. You just don’t get it. I don’t know how many times we can keep having this conversation.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You need to get your fucking shit together. I can’t keep pulling you out of bumfuck nowhere every single time you have a bender.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And jesus christ, couldn’t you have just called a cab?”

“I lost all my money.”

“Christ. Slots, again?”

“Fuck you, if you don’t want to pick me up then don’t pick me up. I don’t nee—”

“Shut the fuck up. Just shut the fuck up. Every time you t—”

“Fuck you. Always acting like you’re better than me. Like you and that cunt aren’t just as bad.”

“I can’t. I can’t keep talking to you about this.”

“I saw. I saw boxes of hassiyum in your dumpster. Fuck you. If rehab is so effective then why are you still fucking around?”

“At least we tried—at least we’re still fucking trying. I’m not throwing my fucking li—”

“So I should be like you? Have a kid with some fucking assh—”

“You need to fucking stop.”

“At least I’m not subjecting a kid to be raised by a couple of fucking junki—”

“STOP!”

“I can’t believe you’re still with him.”

“Oh what? I should be with you?”

“No.”

“I wouldn’t even be in any of this shit if I never fucking met you, I swear, sometimes I think you’re the wo—”

“I—”

“You’re lucky my kid likes you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just—”

“I never meant for you—ugh—I didn’t mean for you to start taking those pills too.”

“I know.”

“I was just—”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“It’s alright.”

“How is he, by the way? The kid.”

“I don’t know. We were planning on taking him back to the hospital tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“He can’t breathe again. It keeps coming and going.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I wish I could do something.”

“Just visit him. He misses his godfather.”

“I—”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t afford any more hospital bills.”

“My paycheck is coming in soon, I c—”

“No. Stop. You’ve given us eno—”

“I’m just going to spend it all on slots anyway.”

“Stop.”

“Just let me help.”

“Just visit him.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sure we’ll all figure somet—”

The recording abruptly ended there.

...

A ring by Philotes, a subsidiary by DUX. Found near a waterfall. Not known if it belonged to anyone beforehand. But it is said that wearing this particular ring can allow you to communicate with someone from an alternate universe.

Ahh, peculiar item. I put it on once and I had a conversation with a man that desperately wanted to be in our universe. Something about seeing his wife again. I don’t know. Took it off immediately. No sense in meddling in such personal affairs KEKEKE

The so-called resurrection plant. Though appearing dead and lifeless, placing it inside a water bottle will infuse it with vim and vigor. Philosophers argue whether this is due to the life-giving qualities of water, or whether it is due to the rose’s ability to accept the help of water. A new wave of scientists are currently testing if submerging other dead things underwater could revive them. Namely: God.

Meh. Don’t know why I still have that thing. Throw it away.

A pin indicating someone’s position as the Chancellor of Mestern Mashington’s Master Gardener Program. Though a coveted position, a superstitious curse has begun to become associated with it as its last owner was engulfed by a house fire.

KEKEKE Be careful.

A discontinued brand of candy. An interest for the item has recently resurged due to seemingly random reasons. It became a minor talking point for Seeing Stars users upon the advent of a peculiar Supernova video. After heated discussion, some of the users have come to theorize that it possesses grief curing properties which caused word to spread and started a hunt for the candy. To everyone’s disappointment, every single box of candy found is now expired.

Got use for it? KEKEKEKE. Don’t even bother.

A game popular among children. It features a unique little creature that you have to take care of. You can play games with it, you can feed them, and you can even tickle them. Each tickle costs 100 SP (or Survival Points) and you can buy 98 SP on the store for 10 gambas and you can buy 2 SP for 12 gambas. There’s an assortment of foods that you can choose from, the prices range from 100 SP to 12,000,000 SP. You get to play one game with them for free every day but every subsequent game will cost you 500SP more than the last. If you fail to play a game with them, feed them, and tickle them, at least once a day, they die. The creature in this particular console is starving and is in a perpetual state of endless dying, begging for someone to play a game with them.

That? Belonged to this kid. Hasn’t been touched ever since he—well—you don’t have to hear about it. Sure he would have been sad to see his little pet suffering like this though.

A lamp that excels at attracting moths. Advertised as a way to get moths into your house so they could eat the mushrooms growing in your house. However, customers quickly found out that moths do not eat mushrooms. Instead, the moths would simply fly into the lamp, die, and their carcasses would turn into more mushrooms.

Eudaemonia is a genus of moths KEKEKEKE

Though worse for wear, it is perfectly functional. The original owner was hunted down by figures, though unknown, no doubt powerful. The whereabouts of the original owner are currently unknown but it is believed that he is now a stranger—others believe that he always was. The phone contains a video of a neighborhood occupied by corrupted individuals that went viral and is still sought out by plenty of organizations to this day. Some, to destroy it; others, to preserve it; a couple for reasons unclear.

Surprised I have this? KEKEKEKE. I ran across the “artist” who owned it. He gave it to me because he was certain it would remain off the grid with me given that I can never sell anything KEKEKEKE.

Literally just a sphere. Is incapable of doing anything of note.
The all-new Sphere! For when you need something.

One of my favorite products KEKEKEKE. I bought twelve. Never touched them after I bought them but buying them was fun. Mayhaps you’d like to experience that too? KEKEKEKE.

A patch to help with hassiyum addiction. Customer reviews report mixed results but there seems to be a constant complaint about it causing itchy skin. Features a famous mascot of a mummy covered in patches instead of linen bandages.

Hmmmm. Not mine, no. Gave it to the kid’s mother to help. Least I could do. Fix some wrongs. Never tried it myself. I have been taking lots of baths in sodium carbonate though.

Very old debt-collection letters. The concerns range from gambling debts to medical debts to the time the shopkeep told his homecoming date that she looked like shit, to the time he punched a mirror after a bad day of cards, to the time he accidentally ran over a squirrel and spent the afternoon trying to bury it but gave up halfway through when he realized how difficult it was to dig a hole without a shovel, and to everything in between.

Now you know why I’m trying to sell so much shit KEKEKEKE.

Unengraved trophy collecting dust and cobwebs. DUX Severance gift. A statue that breaks when your debts no longer have to be paid. It seems to be unbreakable by any other method.

“You’re free.”

“Please, I need this job.”

“You are free.

“Please.”

Never broke. Still fired me. Told them they can’t. Not broken. Still fired me. I smash and smash. Debts paid, they said. Statue not broken. Not broken.

A set of cursed bricks. Most are colored with blood stains. Each brick was thrown at the shopkeep by hitmen looking to collect. The bearer or the bricks are cursed with carrying them unless they are bought from the bearer.

I’ve sold some now and then. They just threw it right back at me though.

A mask to help with breathing through smog. Common item among local residents due to the local DUX factory. Blood between neighbors has been spilled over the topic of their necessity—blood that painted the entire town red except for the DUX factory. When asked to comment, DUX assured everyone that the smog will lift soon and ceased production of the masks. The smog has yet to lift.

This was the kid’s. They gave it to him in the hospital. Was way too late though, obviously.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t really have a choice.”

“You sold my debts?”

“Yeah.”

“But June—”

“I didn’t have a choice, okay! I have a kid and he’s sick and my husband left and—”

“But what does this mean, June?”

“I sold your debts to DUX. You have to work for them now.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t afford them anymore, okay? I have debts on my own.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“I really did try to pay you what I owed.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I left you that night.”

“Homecoming?”

“Yeah.”

“We were kids.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t owe me that anymore.”

“What do I do now?”

“You work.”

“Until?”

“Until you don’t.”

“I’ll pay.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll help you pay your debts.”

...

One of millions. No matter which keys are hit, it always types out the script to Hamlet.

Did you see the remake of Hamlet? Pretty good, I thought, but the lead’s portrayal of Hamlet was pretty derivative of the previous Hamlet I thought.

Found this in a thrift store. Couldn’t walk a foot without tripping over one. Clerk said that it accumulated over the years from all sorts of characters. Practically wanted to give them away, no one wanted them. Took it just for the shits KEKEKE. I asked why everyone was giving away the typewriters and the clerk shrugged.

A typewriter manufactured by TRIDENT. Though they had the idea first, it sold less than the DUX counterpart. Advertised as a true instrument for creativity, unlike their soulless corporate counterpart, it can only type out the script to Romeo and Juliet.

These and the DUX ones are the only commercially successful typewriter models. These littered the thrift store too, though.

A box that inflicts excruciating amounts of pain for anyone inside it. Popular amongst anyone looking to grow as a person as it was advertised as a fast track to enlightenment. If suffering built character then the pain box offered to accelerate that process. It also saw fringe uses in certain online spaces when the “Pain Box Challenge” circulated for a few months. It lost popularity once people found out that the box wasn’t impartial and a prolonged argument on who had to endure the most amount of pain from the box ensued.

Honestly, the box ain’t that bad.

A magical net that excels in catching dozens of fairies at once. The twine is imbued with cotton candy which can attract fairies from even miles away. The product was discontinued once all the fairies disappeared.

You ever miss them?

A safe that contains a black hole to ensure that no one has access to your most valuable belongings. Nobody knows where the black hole leads but one thing’s for sure, no one will ever get their hands on those items and they will forever be yours.

The previous owner tried to put their hand in it. They’re probably still in there.

Paint that makes anything greener. Perfect for individuals who want greener items but don’t have the means to afford them. It is said that one coating of this paint will make all of your neighbors envious of you which caused the product to blow up in popularity as more and more people bought greener paint to compete—news of a neighborhood getting stuck in an infinite state of repainting circulated the net at one point. The product lost popularity once TRIDENT released “Greenest Paint.”

Bleh. Trident garbage.

A collar you can put on anything to mark it as yours. The farther the item is away from the owner, the tighter the collar chokes until the object is crushed.

Uncomfortable, that.

Gray and rimmed in gold, this overcoat is said to increase the fortune of those who wear it. Money, fame, respect, and power are destined for its wearer—each strut will prompt a double take, promotions will come one after the other, and their bodies will repair themselves on a molecular level. However, the coat is also said to be haunted by ghosts and corrupted aiming to steal the coat for themselves. Previous owners report spending many anxious sleepless nights to ensure that the coat wouldn’t get stolen.

KEKEKEKE Stole this from some schmuck. Got no use for it though. Be careful, should you choose to buy this. I’m not above stealing it again.

The most popular clothing item there ever was: the DUX Shapeshifting Tracksuit shifts to the style of whatever is currently designated as “in”, removing the necessity for any other clothing item. Convenient and fashionable, especially beneficial for those without an eye for fashion. There are contrarian voices against the tracksuit, they feel as if the hegemony suits are dull and tiring, but hardly anyone takes these voices seriously as people find it difficult to listen to anyone dressed terribly.

Meh. DUX uniform. Had to wear this back then.

Have seen regular use. Burning these cones procure colorful smoke that some say form images. Though the consensus seems to be that those images are being riddled with more and more video artifacts as the years go by. The smoke lingers with the scent. Ethereal abstract silhouettes lazily mold from one to the next with a malady untold. A lady in a dress dancing with a hummingbird. A kid in a tire swing as the rest of the smoke swirls around it and collides. A man running from the smoke. A ghost pulling a lever over and over and over and over again as phantoms of that which he once had turned into raining bricks. The smoke smells of Terry’s Chocolate Orange.

Oh, I’m sorry. Those aren’t for sale. Actually, I’m looking to buy. If you have any then let me know. I don’t have much money right now but I’ll owe ya. I’ll pay you back eventually. I just need as much of these as I can get. I’m almost out. I’ll owe ya. Pay you back. Eventually.