Larry watched the elf blithely hand over a twenty-dollar bill. He didn’t even wait for change, but sashayed into the food court, plunking his tray down on a spindly-legged table. Larry followed more slowly.
“How did you do that?” he asked, sitting down as the elf bit into his Baco-Splosion Deluxe.
“Do what?” the elf mumbled, tiny mouth full.
“Pay for the food. You don’t have pockets. You don’t even have pants!”
“Oh, that,” the elf waved a thin-fingered hand. “It’s all the same. Magic is money, money is potential, potential is energy. I just manipulate the rates of exchange.”
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