<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Deal on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/deal/</link><description>Recent content in Deal on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:47 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/deal/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Kingdom</title><link>/stories/2019/06/09/the-kingdom/</link><pubDate>Sun, 09 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/09/the-kingdom/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="kingdom9.html"&gt;chapter 9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 10: Forbidden Fruit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a foggy morning and the air felt cooler than it had the night before. Shivering outside of the building I previously knew to be the call center, I rubbed my arms in an attempt to stay warm. The sign hanging above the glass doors to the building now read “TRADING POST”. I recognized it as the same sign that used to hang over the ATM kiosks at the front of the park. It was surreal to consider how a simple Renaissance-themed sign intended to help guests find a place to withdraw cash could now imply something as perverse as &lt;em&gt;slave trading&lt;/em&gt;.
 
I glanced down at my phone to check the time. 7:57am. A sign taped to the inside of the glass door in front of me read “Business hours: 8am-6pm”. Inside, several women in burgundy uniforms could be seen working in their cubicles but nobody made eye contact with me or seemed to notice that I was there.
 
While it wasn’t cold enough outside for me to see my breath, it certainly felt freezing. I’d regretfully neglected to buy a heavier jacket when I was clothing shopping earlier in the week. Tapping my foot impatiently, I sat atop the hard black suitcase that I’d discovered on my doorstep the day earlier. I still had no idea what was inside, given the fact that it was combination-locked. But at least it was something dry to me sit on. Next to me was a trash bag with all of my other belongings. As per Murphy’s request, I had packed everything from the suite in preparation to check out for the trade.
 
I hadn’t slept much. I hated not having been able to speak with Katie the night prior before leaving the stadium. It made me sick not knowing if Murphy had explained things adequately to her. The thought of her wondering whether I’d abandoned her was upsetting, to say the least. I nervously glanced up and down the cobblestone street, eager to catch a glimpse of Murphy and Katie walking toward me. But the street was empty. At 8:00 on the money, a woman unlocked the glass doors and held one open for me. I could see that her wrists were handcuffed in front of her.
 
“Welcome,” she said pleasantly. “Thank you for waiting so patiently,” I walked in, dragging my suitcase and trash bag behind me. I instantly relaxed as a gust of warm air met me. “Do you have an appointment with anyone in particular?” She asked.
 
“No,” I said. “Wait- was I supposed to?”
 
“Oh no,” she replied reassuringly. “We can see you right away. I just didn’t know if anyone had been helping you already.”
 
“No… I just made a deal with someone last night and he told me to meet him here,” I explained.
 
“Okay, great,” the woman replied. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind following me over to one of our notaries, she’ll get you taken care of.”
 
I followed the woman past cubicles occupied with handcuffed women tapping away at their keyboards. Everything in the building looked pretty much the same as I’d left it when I closed the Ren Faire for the season. Everything except for the BDSM-themed artwork that now hung on throughout the office. Each cubicle sported at least one of these.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fantastic Lava Cake</title><link>/stories/2018/12/10/fantastic-lava-cake/</link><pubDate>Mon, 10 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/12/10/fantastic-lava-cake/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I have heard you have a fantastic lava cake.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Quite correct, it is rather legendary.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Excellent, I&amp;rsquo;ll have it.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Good choice, Sir, what about you, Madam?&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You seem conflicted as we had a big main course and you wanted to watch your weight over the weekend after all.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Would you bring us two spoons so we can share?&amp;rdquo;, you finally ask.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Very well.&amp;rdquo;, The waiter scuttles off and I raise my eyebrows at you.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Trashy Adventures of David and Christine 1: Trashing her Worthless Boyfriend</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-1-trashing-her-worthless-boyfriend/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-trashy-adventures-of-david-and-christine-1-trashing-her-worthless-boyfriend/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book 1 : Trashing her Worthless Boyfriend&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I love trash.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I don&amp;rsquo;t know why, but ever since I was a child, the idea of being thrown out and taken away by the garbage truck has always stirred feelings inside me that I didn&amp;rsquo;t understand, until I grew up. The idea of being discarded as trash was my biggest dream. Especially if I was thrown out by someone I knew.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maybe my girlfriend.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Undercover</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/undercover/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/undercover/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Joseph Mackenzie definitely had it made. Well, mostly. Ok, so he didn&amp;rsquo;t have the money of the guys at the top, but he definitely had more than the ones at the bottom. And maybe he didn&amp;rsquo;t have the power of those higher ups, but he could and did exercise his authority over those lower than himself. Also, he might not have all those women all over him, doting on him in a pretense of love, but he could afford to rent the next best thing. So, yeah, Joey Mack had it made. Mostly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>