"That wine from Kessig? Thirteen zib. It's not for barter, because I know what you're gonna trade. And no, there is no  way you'll survive the burns AND the frostbite."

 "DIOMEDES, PUT THAT DOWN. NOW. I don't care what the elf said about New Phyrexia, that's for Mirrodins only."

 "Gorgon, put the blindfold on. You know the rules."

 	The Weird shopkeeper quickly lumbered behind his store's darksteel counter, dealing with the onslaught of Planeswalkers in his shop. Seven hundred zib slammed onto the counter, an arm made from ice or fire or both rakes it in, and two place a hunk of moonsilver onto the counter. Thirty zib placed down, and a scroll was sent down gently.
 	It wasn't until his 'skin' began to boil, hurling sparks of blue flame across his store that Del knew it was time for a break.
	Picking up the two nearest planeswalkers, a Kithkin who began to scream about "cinders" and a small myr, and placed them behind the counter. "You two deal with this. You're in charge until I get back, and if you need me, I'll be on Theros." Del bellowed, before turning to the door, forged from darksteel. "Oh. And another thing. No selling weapons to Diomedes. I know he'll find a way to break darksteel, since he decided to destroy my last counter!"
	And with that, the shopkeep placed his hand on the darksteel door, depositing the two mana it required to open, and walked out of the "VIPs only" section of the store, before barking more orders and planeswalking to Theros, leaving the VIP section of the store completely silent for a moment.

 Of course, the shop soon erupted back to life, leaving the kithkin and myr to their horrible fate.