Gallywix: Trade Secrets of a Trade Prince

Introduction by the Author

Hey, pal. Trade Prince Gallywix here. You’re holding this book in your hands because you wanna be like me. Who wouldn’t? There ain’t a goblin alive more powerful and dangerous than me. I can give you everything you need to succeed.

But first, a friendly legally binding warning just for you.

If you’re reading this and haven’t bought the book yet, that’s stealing. You think that browsing is a victimless crime? You think it’s your right as a customer? You’d be dead wrong, deadbeat! It’s freeloaders like you who drove down my profit margin last year and kept me from adding an edible furniture wing onto my mansion. Now, instead of the chocolate couches with funnel cake pillows I deserve, I have furniture made of silk. Have you ever tried to eat silk? You even know where that stuff comes from? A worm’s cakehole, that’s where! You need to fix this. Buy my book, or my exploding assassins will hunt you down like the thieving bilge rat you are.

What, you doubt me? Have we met? You don’t become trade prince by making empty threats. The spot ain’t hereditary like that cushy king job those pink-skinned humans get. If I told you thirty-two spies were watching you lick your lips nervously right now, you’d better believe it, pal.

Don’t bother looking around. You won’t see them. Stop wasting my time and risking your life. Twenty thousand gold is a cheap price to pay for my life story. And if you read past this sentence without buying the book, I’ll devote every inch of my empire to destroying you. Do you understand me?

Good. Now, pay the damn salesman.

Done? You sure? Great. Well, thanks for buying my book, sucker. You wanna be a trade prince? I want an army of fel reavers with my face painted over their fists, but negotiations with the Burning Legion fell through, so I guess neither one of us is gonna get what we want.

Why can’t you be a trade prince? Because all the slots are filled by goblins better than you, that’s why. You ain’t ready yet, but don’t worry. You came to the right goblin for help.

You may have heard a few rumors about me. “Gallywix became trade prince by blowing up, selling out, or just selling everyone he knew. When Mount Kajaro erupted, Gallywix had the only boat, and he charged refugees the low, low price of their life savings. He packed the stars of the goblin aristocracy like sausages in the hold and tried to sell them into slavery. That monster Gallywix betrayed his entire race for a bazillion macaroons.”

Kinda terrible, huh?

Guess what? It’s all true. Why would I lie about that? I never cover up the things I’m proud of. If the world was gonna split in half tomorrow, I’d buy the Dark Portal, slap a toll booth on it, and charge refugees the last of their pocket change, the rings off their fingers, a bite of their sandwiches, and a contractual obligation to build me a rocket palace in the skies of Nagrand. It’s the goblin way! Supply and demand! Deal with it!

But, hey. You paid for your ticket, and this is what you get: the three secrets of the greatest trade prince this mud ball has ever seen. They won’t take long to tell. In fact, if you flip through the book, you’ll find that the last three hundred pages are copies of old newspapers and recipes for fish jerky.

Sorry, pal. No refunds.