A Pink Potion

His eyes are settled on a pink potion along a long table on the right side of the room, where a bunch of them are huddled. Recognising the bottle, he picks it up, and walks quickly to you, intent to buy.

“Is this a lust potion?”

“Yes, sir. Made with the finest extract of pinkroot, sublime siphum, and other things.”

“How much does it cost?”

“Two lentimes.”

He nods. “A fair price indeed.” His expression is calm and composed, his eyes dark like coal. “Tell you what: If you can demonstrate the efficacy of this potion, I’ll buy three of them.”

“Demonstrate?” you say. “I’m not exactly keeping any animals around here.”

“I apologise,” he smiles. “What I’m suggesting is that you try it on yourself, and demonstrate to me the purity of your product.”

You swallow. The offer is tempting. You’d essentially sell two of these potions, if you understand it correctly. For the small price of… what, getting horny for a bit?