The old man sat back and reviewed his bank statement. The shop didn't have that many customers, but ever since he started his online division which he called compuslave.com he'd been raking in the cash hand over fist. Now he was developing a synergy between the store and the online site. He'd sold that idiot Ken a bovine potion, and suggested he visit his "Peaceful Pastures" web site to choose his animal. The internet site took care of the translocation and transmutatio. If Ken hadn't gone there, and complained about the sugar water potion, well the old man would give him some more and log him on to the site from the store's computer.
The bell signaled another customer. He turned to find a scruffy looking college kid leaning nervously against the counter.
"Say, I was told ya got racing forms here. Special ones," he nodded knowingly.
"Actually, we've just gone tp cyber publishing. Here's the web address, the tout sheet updates daily, and the annual subscription rate is only 10 cents a day," said the shopkeeper handing the greasy young man a yellow handbill.
"My bud, Steve, said it guarantees you'll be a winner. Is that true?"
"Well, nothing is sure when you gamble. But it guarantees to make you a winner, though you may lose something in the process."
"Huh, well, I'll try it. There's a race today at the...