May I put you out of my misery?

A man, ostensibly dressed to the pinnacle of urban fashion, approached the counter. "Can you break this?" He hikes up the obscene expanse of fabric required by wearing three shirts eight sizes too large and does that elegant hunch-backed twist required to access pants pockets cunningly placed around knee level. When he finally straightens up again to settle his threads into the desired "toddler-modelling-big-and-tall-athleticwear" look, a hundred dollar bill is poking out of his fist.

I can't break that.

"What if I buy something first?"

This is rarely promising. I can't wait to see how Two-pox is going to solve his issue. Possibly.

He focuses on a ten dollar item. "I'll take one of these."

I give him a flat stare. Get out of here.