Jacob gulped nervously as he stepped out of the car. And then immediately grabbed the door as he almost tripped. Slowly, he closed the door and carefully stepped his way to Funko's door. The bell overhead let out a cheery-sounding chime.
...Was there a bell yesterday?
"Jacob Phillips." The salesman from yesterday was sitting in one of two lounge chairs that WERE NOT THERE YESTERDAY. He offered Jacob a winning smile and gestured invitingly to the other, open chair. He sipped from a glass of water, apparently willing to wait for Jacob to come and sit.
Jacob suddenly found himself a bit...lacking in courage. But he'd already taken an unconscious step forward at the gesture and the door closed behind him with a click. Feeling a bit less sure, but also like he'd run out of options, Jacob walked forward and tripped into the chair.
"Steady there, kid." The man's smile widened, showing teeth. "No worries though; that'll pass."
"What..." Jacob cleared his throat and tried again. "What is this? Who are you?"
"Oh, right." The man flicked his wrist and offered a crisp parchment-colored business card.
Funko's - Maker of Genuine Boys
Mr. E. Luctus Exsultatio
Administration
"Call me Eddie." He offered calmly. "As to what this is...most of it is too strange and complicated to bother explaining. I'll try an example. You understand the concept of trading?"
Jacob nodded slowly as he pocketed the card.
"Shoe sales are just our method; what we deal in is trade. Maybe we make a shrimpy eight-year-old into a college football star, giving him size and muscle in exchange for fourteen years of youth. Or we make a shy, obedient kid into a talented skateboarder, swapping athletic talent for a bit of good attitude. It varies from person to person, swapping things they want for things they're willing to give up. And always aiming to turn a profit."
Jacob blinked, wide-eyed, as he tried to take that in. That...sort of made sense in a freaky magic sort of way, but how was he really supposed to know? And there was another problem.
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Jacob asked.
"Because," Eddie leaned forward, "you have something we actually want. You have a natural resistance to our powers, and the ability to notice what we do. It's a rare thing, Jacob. It keeps us from hiding. I'm telling you the truth because I can't keep it hidden from you, and I can't take your gift without your permission."
Oh.
"And, you think I want to be a basketball player?" Jacob cocked an eyebrow. "I like video games. I like watching cartoons. I've never played a game of basketball in my life!"
"I told you kid, I get a perfect fit every time. Just because you don't see it yet, doesn't mean I made a mistake. We'll see what you think when our agreement finishes in six days."
[POP] [POP]
Jacob stared, shocked, between his shoes and Mr. Eddie. Fronts on both of his elevens had blown off, and his toes were poking out.
"Oh don't look like that kid, your feet haven't grown any since you woke up." Eddie tossed a shoe box with a "13" on the side over; Jacob caught it numbly. "On the house; ordinary shoes. Just don't expect them to last. You're a growing boy."