You know how some customers are just... a problem?
Like, they don't mean to be, well, maybe they do, but they somehow manage to bend time, space, and basic human decency until you're rethinking your career choices?
That's the Goblin Coupon Gang.
They showed up around noon: three short, green, wide-eyed goblins, all wearing clothes that looked like they'd mugged a scarecrow. The leader or at least the loudest one, was Gobby. He had a vest, no shirt, and the confidence of someone who's never once paid full price for anything in his life.
The second one, Nok, was round, soft and carried a backpack so large I was pretty sure it had its own gravitational field.
The third, Sprig, was silent, wearing a trench coat that was suspiciously lumpy in a way that screamed shoplifting enthusiast.
Gobby slapped a crumpled piece of parchment on my counter like it was a royal decree.
"Special coupon! Fifty percent off jerky!"
I leaned over it. The parchment was yellowed, torn at the edges and dated… three decades ago.
"This expired thirty years ago" I said.
Gobby's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, but just barely."
They started haggling. Nok offered me "wo shiny rocks and a stick in exchange for the discount. Sprig just... stared at me. Not blinking. The kind of stare that makes you wonder if you've somehow insulted an ancient forest spirit.
I said no.
That was my mistake.
Ten minutes later, they came back, in disguise.
Gobby had wrapped a towel around his head like a turban and introduced himself as "Lord Discountus." Nok had drawn a mustache on his face with coal. Sprig was now wearing sunglasses and a fake beard, still staring without blinking.
They slapped the same coupon on the counter.
"Still expired" I said.
"But this time" Gobby said, "we are different customers."
I told them to leave. They left.
Ten minutes later... they came back again.
This time, they were wearing matching T-shirts that said TEAM JERKY and pushing a cart filled with exactly one loaf of bread.
"We'll buy the bread" Nok said, "if we can also buy jerky... at fifty percent off."
"No."
"Forty percent?"
"No."
Gobby leaned in. "Thirty-five percent... and we pretend this never happened?"
Before I could answer, the bell jingled, and the entire shop seemed to shrink.
Grunt walked in. The Floor Boss. Wearing the pirate hat I sold him yesterday.
He stopped, looked at me, then at the goblins, then at me again.
"Are these... loyalty members?" he asked, voice rumbling.
The goblins froze. Gobby held up the coupon like it was a holy relic.
"Yes" I said quickly, because apparently my survival instincts kick in when horned warlords ask leading questions. "They're... special tier members."
Grunt nodded approvingly. "Good. Members get free jerky on Thursdays."
The goblins exploded into cheers and that's how I lost three bags of jerky, accidentally invented Goblin Thursday and got strong-armed into upgrading the coupon gang to Platinum status.
Somewhere deep down, I think I know this is all my fault.