Are You A Pirate or A Ninja?

          The bouncy woman slammed the sheathed blade onto the counter in front of him. Fountain cocked an eyebrow at the intricately carved sheath. The flourishes and curlys were painted in silver on a field of black. The was set in gold, solid gold designed to mimic the tip of the blade that rested inside. The hilt itself, worn and frayed in the pattern of a skilled hand.
          Fountain slid out the “katana,” as the bouncy woman had called it, a little frightened at the red tint. He cleared his throat and looked up at the woman, trying not to stare at her breast. It soon proved impossible, so he just held his conversation with the fleshy, three-quarters exposed chest. “May I inquire as to where you acquired such a magnificent sword?”
          “Off some guy in a bar.”
          “I see.” Fountain then snapped the blade back into the sheath. “I’ll give you two fifty.”
          The blade became unsheathed and was now against his throat. “You will give me your entire treasury.”
          Fountain pushed away the blade and this time stared into the woman’s eyes.
          “Jeissy, I’m not giving you shit.”
          She sliced the blade down along his life line then put it back in the sheath. Blood trickled down his wrist and stained the cuff of his only, once white, now a disgusting yellow color, shirt.
          Fountain stuck out his tongue and grabbed a bandage that he conveniently kept under the counter. “Now, what else you got that I can sell back to that guy?”
          “Nothing, the cheap ass,” Jeissy huffed and flung the sack of sacks of gold onto the counter. “Start counting. Ten percent it going to you for holding it for me.”
          “Maybe you should just use all this to buy yourself an island and bury it there. That way I don’t have to see your ugly face everyday.”
          “How do you even now what my face looks like? You’re always staring at my boobs!”
          “Well, maybe if they weren’t always hanging out then maybe I would actually take interest in what your face looks like.”
          She grabbed his collar and pulled him halfway over the counter, her fist, the one with the big yellow-green emerald in the white gold setting resting on her middle finger, was pulled back just far enough to gain enough force to punch him through to the next county.
          “Okay, okay!” Fountain snapped. “I’ve other customers!”
          As lightly as possible, which is hardly lightly at all, Jeissy tossed him back over the counter, where he involuntarily somersaulted over himself quite a few times. She then turned around, her uneven hair flicking in response, to face the “other customer.”
          A young boy, no older than ten, no younger than two, stood there gaping at the mighty, bouncy woman that stood before him. In his teeny hand he held one gold coin meant for sling-shot ammo.
          “Get lost,” she huffed, in her breathy, nonchalant way.
          The boy handed her the coin then ran from the shop. Jeissy just flicked it into the pile and turned to face Fountain once again. He was gone. Vanished. Standing right behind her waiting for her to turn around.
          The katana didn’t have the pleasure of cutting and slicing him into tiny little bits. Instead, the sheath was more than happy with its new found purpose of bashing him into a muddled little parasite on the floor. And not the stiletto healed boots came into play, stomping and crushing any last hope that Fountain had of ever using his lungs again.
          She nudged the fleshy mound and then kicked it hard. Fountain howled, then flattened out on the dusty floor. Jeissy hissed, curling her full red lips in a snarl. “Get up you worthless nothing sack! Start with the math!”