"L-listen," Snip said, flopping prone on the bed, "if you're going to be running bets at my figure's expense, I want a cut of the action."
"Hey, nobody's forcing you to eat. I'm just making a little coin off what happens to be going on."
"I'm what's going on!"
"Exactly. Besides, I had to pay the inn to keep the food coming, and you do want your food, don't you?"
"I never want to eat again," Snip moaned, loosening her pants.
"You say that every night," Rance said with a wink.
"Well, tonight I mean it! No more eating until you give me a share!"
"Ha! You'll be chewing on the headboard by midnight."
Snip shot him a sour look. The big jerk was probably right, though. She sighed. "At least give me something so I can get my thieving gear re-tailored. That's a lot more expensive than these peasant travel clothes, you know!"
"Fine, but let's wait until we get a little closer to the tomb. No sense in paying for it twice, right?"
"And I want at least fifty percent of the profits, too."
"I told you already, you're eating fifty percent of the profits already!"
"Don't play stupid. I mean net. What I'm eating is gross."
"You're telling me. Fine, tell you what. You can have whatever we make tomorrow morning. That's fair, right?"
"I guess," Snip said suspiciously.
-----
The next day, following breakfast, Snip stormed -- well, waddle-stormed -- out of the inn in a foul mood. Her stomach was full to bursting once more, but her purse was remarkably svelte.
"Can't believe none of those idiots wanted to bet..." she muttered.
Rance shrugged. "Well, what do you expect? They saw the way you ate yesterday. None of them wanted to lose any more money on the Halfling-and-a-Half."
Snip sighed. Well, they still had a ways before reaching the town of Tombside.