Chapter 7: The Predatory Lenders

Andrew had particular tastes for his clothing. If food or drink spilled on a sleeve, he would immediately change shirts. If he sweat too much, he would immediately change shirts. If he felt that his shirt was the wrong color, he would immediately change shirts. At 12th Century Bank, he was often referred to as "the shirt mongerer" or "Superman," for his ability to seemingly change costumes in the blink of an eye.

Thus it was no surprise that when Andrew stumbled upon a table filled with clean shirts, he stopped to peruse the wears. His shirt was now drenched in sweat, caked in mud, and even had some of his own dry blood on it from that awful dungeon/torture scenario that the evil Goblin Borrower had put him in. "Grrr," Andrew thought to himself. "I'll get that Goblin!" But for now, he thumbed through the assortment of t-shirts, some with slogans like, "My brother died in the Goblin's dungeon and all I got was this stupid t-shirt."

No sooner had he taken the shirt in his hand when a man approached him. "You like what you see? You like what you see?" the man said, with a speed and guile that made Andrew practically have to respond, "Yes! I like what I see."

"Hoshek," the man said, extending his hand.

"Andrew." They shook.

"So. What can I do for you?" Hoshek asked, holding up an Armani button down with french cuffs.

"I was actually wondering if I could have a shirt," Andrew asked, holding up the t-shirt he had picked out.

"Oh, you don't want THAT shirt. You're a banker, right?"
"Right."
"Banker's gotta look baller. Banker's gotta show that they're rolling with the big shots. I know exactly what you want."

Hoshek walked off into the back closet. Andrew was continually amazed by the strange rooms and people that inhabited this dungeon. A clothing vendor with a closet? What was he doing here in the first place? Hoshek stepped out, holding a suit bag in his hands. He unzipped the bag, revealing a navy suit.

"Hugo Boss. Try it on."

"Oh, I couldn't," Andrew said. "Alright."

Andrew emerged from the back room in the suit. He inspected himself in the mirror.

"I look good," Andrew said, adjusting the silk tie.

"You look like a million bucks, you beautiful son-of-a-bitch." Hoshek smiled. "The suit was made for you."
"Excellent! I'll take it." Andrew reached for his pockets, but then he remembered he had been imprisoned in a crazy dungeon, and had no wallet or money to speak of.

"It seems I've misplaced my wallet... do you do lay-away?"

"Woah woah woah woah woah woah!" Hoshek said. "You belong in this suit. You don't have enough money to pay for it. But me? I'm a nice guy. I know you. You're a friend. A good guy. A reliable guy, right?"
Andrew nodded. He was good and reliable! This Hoshek sure knew him well.

"I'm gonna make you a deal..." Hoshek said, and pulled out a stack of papers. He held them up to Andrew. "Let's finance this purchase, huh? I can offer you a sub-prime tiered rate! It's like I'm giving you money!"

Andrew took the papers from Hoshek. It was a very nice suit indeed, but sometimes large contractual documents could lead to trouble. Hoshek handed him a pen, and pointed to the dotted line.

"So what's your answer? We got ourselves a deal?"

CHAPTER 7 CONTINUES... Will Andrew take the deal? Will he get the "shovel" that Justin Weissman has sent him to retrieve? Will he ever see his sweet love or 30 pounds of gold again?

NEXT TIME ON MEDIEVAL LENDER!