SRU: V**gr*

By Mat Charles


A bell tinkled as he pushed open the door. He winced. As gently as he
could, he closed it behind him then looked around. The place was,
thankfully, empty apart from the rather wizened shopkeeper sitting behind a
desk and his dog lying below it. He hesitated, then decided he could trust
this nice-looking old man.

"Hello, Joe," said the shopkeeper.

Joe started. "Uh, yes. Look, I, uh - where do you know me from?"

The man shrugged. "I have a mystical ability to know the identity of anyone
who walks into-"

"Thank God. I thought you might be one of our clients down at the office or
something. Please, mister, you can't tell anyone about my problem."

The old man cocked an eyebrow. "Problem?"

Joe nodded, flushed with embarrassment.

"I've had a, um, problem for a little while now. In bed." He took a deep
breath, then continued. "I tried to make excuses to my wife, but I think
she knows. That is, she must have noticed. I mean, I used to be a real
animal. Um."

There was what can only be described as a pregnant pause.

"But, well, lately I just haven't been able to - y'know. Which sounds
pretty silly, I know, until it happens to you, and then it's damn
depressing. I think she might leave me for someone else who - who can. So I
was hoping - I need to get some, um, Viagra. Or a clone drug or something.
maybe, so she wouldn't recognise the name. Please. You have to help me."

The old man looked at him. "Let me summarise this. You want something
that's not quite Viagra so that you can be an animal in bed again. Any
animal in particular?"

Joe blushed a deeper shade of red and mumbled something about having been
referred to as a stallion in the past.

The shopkeeper threw his arms in the air. "Right! That's it! Playing an
elegant magical prank on someone is one thing, but having them come in
here, paint a target on themselves and scream 'Hex me!' is no fun at all."

Joe stared, confused.

"For God's sakes, man. There's a chemist's three shops down. Go there."

Burning with shame, Joe walked out of the shop - then paused on the
threshold, door held open.

"I don't suppose you sell anything which might help my son with this
cheerleader he's trying to-"

"Get out!"

Joe got.

The old man reached down and ruffled his guard-wolf's ears absently. "I
hardly seem to have any fun around here any more, Charles. It used to be so
much easier. Maybe I ought to move on. D'you think I'd make a good webmaster?"

The wolf's whine was interrupted by another tinkle of the bell. Two youths
strode into the shop, both brandishing knives.

"Listen up, old man. Open your till and-"

"Huh? How did you know my name?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Just shut up and get out the cash. And then you can tell us whether any of
this junk you got is valuable - and for your sake it better be..."

Then again, thought the old man as he opened the cash register, humming
happily to himself, maybe there is a bit of life left in the Magical Shoppe
thing yet...


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