It was a potently hot Saturday. The sun seemed to have swelled with its nuclear virility and everyone at the Faire sat around languidly awaiting a hopeful evening breeze. Many mundanes went home, save those who had come late and still thought they could somehow get their money's worth. At a roadside vendor, Nancy and her equally shameless cohort, Morgan, examined a rack of pouches. Tiny, velvet drawstring 'pokes', in colors of dark red, green, blue and magenta, dangled on long black strings before them. Nancy pointed to one of the bright, pink-red sacks. "That's not period," she announced, referring to its suspicious coloring. She held it up to read the small, white tag on the back side. "Jeez. It costs more coins than you could fit into it." The woman behind the stand forced a smile. Meanwhile, a parade of black-robed, tight faced puritans strode defiantly past, not distracting anyone. "Um, but they sure are pretty," feigned Morgan. "She wants twenty bucks for this thing!" bitched Nancy. The vendor woman leaned forward and quietly but firmly persisted, "We have others over here." And she led the girls around to the side, presenting another rack of slightly larger, but less impressive pouches. "They be the same cost as the others, yet they be roomier. They're just not real velvet." Nancy probed the opening of one of them and said, "Lots bigger, eh? Just about enough room for a grown man's testicle. Just one." She swished her finger around inside it. "Though I prefer two balls to one." "And for me," added Morgan, "I prefer my balls attached to the crotch of their owner. Not an easy sum to drag around in a purse. What good will these do us?" And they left.