"Behold the field in which I grow my fucks. Lay thine eyes upon it and see that it is barren." -- Anon Guest
Two adventurers were journeying together down a long and winding road. Almost heedless of what may lie ahead. That was because they were having an argument as they walked.
"Not that I don't want the money, mind," said the first. "It's just that you're so gosh-darn cheerful about dismembering folks. It's off-putting."
"You'd be cheerful, too, if it earned you gemstone levels of money per ounce." The second adventurer was polishing a deboning knife. "Not my fault that that merchant pays better if each piece is properly portioned out, jointed and such." He swept an arm over a relatively clear piece of pasture. "Behold. The field in which I grow mine fucks. Lay thine eyes upon it and see that it is barren."