Lifting the curse is expensive

The next day I woke up early. I checked my phone and saw it was 7:47. I had 13 minutes before I had to be at my appointment with the magician. I quickly got out of bed and began to pace around the room, trying to think of what I would say to her.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. My hair was a tangled mess, and I had a smudge of special sauce on my cheek from last night. I wiped it off with the back of my hand, feeling a bit more presentable, but still very much naked. I glanced at the clock again - 7:50. The magician was 5 minutes away, and I still needed to figure out what to say when I got there. I stopped pacing and tried to decide if I should just wear a towel or a sheet.

I tried a sheet first, then a towel, and was despondent when both dissolved into nothing as I tried putting them on. Sighing, I just grabbed my phone, wallet, and keys, brushed my hair, and sauntered out the door and began my walk to the magician.

As I stepped out into the crisp morning air, the cool breeze hit me like a slap in the face, making me acutely aware of my nakedness. I glanced around nervously, hoping that no one was watching me make my way down the street. The magician's shop was only a few blocks away, and I could see the sign creaking in the wind - "Madam Zorvath, Purveyor of the Mystical and Unknown". I quickened my pace, my bare feet slapping against the pavement.

I passed by a few early risers, who couldn't help but stare at my ... unique attire. I tried to ignore them, focusing on the task at hand.

As I approached the shop, I could see Madam Zorvath standing in the doorway, a look of amusement on her face. She was dressed in a long, flowing black robe, adorned with intricate silver patterns that seemed to shimmer in the morning light. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she took me in. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I quickened my pace, my bare feet slapping against the pavement in a futile attempt to maintain some semblance of dignity as I entered the shop.

As I entered the shop, Madam Zorvath's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she let out a low, throaty chuckle. The sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my face grow even hotter with embarrassment. The air inside the shop was thick with the scent of incense and something sweetly metallic, which only added to my growing unease. I felt a shiver run down my spine as she reached out a slender, bejeweled hand and gently touched my bare shoulder.

"I see you weren't joking about the curse," Zorvath said with an accent. "Come, let us proceed," she said, her voice low and husky, as she gestured to a small, ornate table in the center of the room. The surface was covered in a complex pattern of symbols, etched into the wood in a language I couldn't understand.

As I approach the table, I can't help but feel a sense of trepidation. The symbols on the table seemed to shift and move as I get closer, as if they were alive. Madam Zorvath pulls out a chair for me, her face a mask of calm, but her eyes betray a hint of excitement. I sit down, my bare feet sticking to the floor, and I can feel the coolness of the chair through my skin. She takes a seat across from me, her hands resting on the table, fingers tapping lightly on the wood.

"Da," Zorvath continued, "you have naked curse."

"I think that was obvious," I managed sarcasm even in this heavy situation, "who cursed me, and how do I get rid of it?"

Madam Zorvath's expression remained serene, but a hint of a smile danced on her lips as she replied, "Ah, the curse of nakedness, a most... delicate affliction." Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned forward, her long silver hair cascading down her back like a river of moonlight. "The one who cursed you is a powerful sorcerer, one who weaves magic with words and intentions." She paused, her gaze piercing as she studied me. "But I sense that you are not one to be easily intimidated. You have a certain... je ne sais quoi, a spark within you that refuses to be extinguished."

"Okay, and how do I get rid of this?" I continued.

"The curse can only be lifted by a counter-spell, a powerful incantation that must be spoken with the utmost precision and intention," Madam Zorvath said, her eyes never leaving mine. "And it just so happens that I know of such a spell." She rose from her chair, her long black robe flowing behind her like a shadow, and moved to a bookshelf filled with ancient tomes and scrolls. She ran her fingers along the spines of the books, her expression distant as she searched for the right spell. At last, she pulled out a scroll, its edges yellowed with age, and unrolled it on the table.

"You can leave your naked worries behind, for only $200."

My eyes widened in surprise as I stared at the scroll, the intricate symbols and markings dancing across the parchment like a madman's scribble. I felt a surge of hope mixed with skepticism as I turned my gaze back to Madam Zorvath, her eyes glinting with a knowing spark. "Two hundred dollars?" I repeated, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the incredulity rising up my throat. Madam Zorvath nodded, her expression serene, as if the price was a mere trifle. "A small price to pay for the lifting of the curse, don't you think?" she said, her voice dripping with persuasion.

I hesitated, my mind racing with the implications. "Can we do $50?" I asked, sheepishly.

"$50?" Madam Zorvath repeated, her serene expression faltering for a brief moment. She hesitated, considering my offer before responding.