The Slippery Slope of Stormwind

“Waydamminit,” interjected the sharply dressed goblin, “you’re tellin’ me that you get high off of fel-damned tea?!”
Shen raised his eyebrows and shrugged with a smile, “if a herb has therapeutic benefits, generally it possible to adapt it to more… recreational ends.”
Greasly shifted on his stool, glancing skeptically down at his steaming teacup.
“Don’t worry,” Shen, chuckled, sipping from his cup, “simply brewing tea does nothing unexpected. I need to mill, extract, and refine the essences. But in principle, yes.”
Greasly gestured to the catatonic Hozen, laid flat against the teahouse floor murmuring contentedly, “and jus’ about anyone will enjoy these full effects?”
“I assume so. Perhaps not undead. I hear Dwarves have quite a tolerance, too…” Shen mused.
“Yeah, yeah. So what’s the process? How’dya turn tea leaves into a cup’o’g’night?” Greasly sat forward as he adjusted his monocle inquisitively.
Shen winked cheekily, “trade secret.”
The goblin sneered, and drained his cup, “don’t act so smug. You may have the supply, but I gots the demand. Alls we needs ta do is figure out how ta match the two.”
Shen pricked his ears, “simple enough, no? I’ll just pack it into crates here at halfhill, then you-”
“No! Sheesh, what are you, a moron?” spat the goblin, “a lot of folks ain’t agreeable to this sort of commodity; we need to be discreet. Also, I ain’t got a ship, and my ‘clientele’ are scattered throught various Steamwheedle ports. What we need is a discreet, logistical solution.”
“I have a junk,” Shen offered.
Greasly sighed, “were you listenin’? My buyers are scattered across Steamwheedle ports all over Azeroth. What? You gunna sail between the lot of them in a fellin’ junk?!”
“Hrm,” Shen furrowed his brow, “what if we took the produce to Booty Bay, then enlisted some freelancers to distribute the product for us?”
“At least yer thinkin’ now,” Greasly rubbed his chin, “but no, the kinda ‘freelancers’ you get at a place like Booty Bay ain’t always free to distribute whereever they want, unopposed. B’sides, without security, they’d be likely to muscle in on our operation.”
“Well what then?! Should we distribute out of Stormwind instead, hm? It is the biggest, most legitimate sea port in Azeroth, no?” Shen raised his paws and voice sarcastically, “perhaps I should join the Alliance too? Oh wouldn’t that be grand; Shen Silverspice, merchant and Tushui footsoldier-”
“Waydamminit!” Greasly interrupted the Pandaren’s rant with a raised finger as he probed the ceiling, “what if you joined the Alliance, and distributed out of Stormwind?”
Shen slumped, stunned.
“No-no-no, hear me out. The law man is strong in Stormwind, sure, but they ain’t gunna look twice at a bunch of exotic Pandaren foodstuffs, especially if we conceal the ‘active ingredients’ well enough,” Greasly made air quotes with his stubby green fingers, “then-”
“We distribute via the Stormwind Royal Navy. Brilliant!” Shen rolled his eyes as he got up to leave, “clearly I need another partner; one who has a ship.”
“Wait! Wait, jus’ wait a sec,” Greasly protested, standing up on his stool to pull the Pandaren back down to the table, “you ain’t gunna be nowhere with distribution but no buyers. Besides, you didn’t hear the last part. We distribute via the Crimson Rose merchant navy.”
Shen shook off the goblin’s hand and started at him unflinchingly, allowing the him to continue.
“They’re a huge shippin’ company. But people in the know,” Greasly pointed his thumbs toward his chest with a smarmy grin, “like me, are aware of their ‘extracurricular activities’. It’s all on the down-low, though, so they don’t get trouble from the guards.”
“So the Crimson Rose will provide logistics? Are you sure they’ll agree to smuggling our stock, didn’t you say Azerothians frown upon that sort of thing?” Shen asked, unconvinced.
“Y-, no-, just, don’t worry about that. Me and Captain…” Greasly spun his hand in the air as if to reel in the name, “Skaaaay-.. uh… Skeeeww... Skaraine! Me and Captain Skaraine go way back. Best buds from back in the war.”
“Back in the war?” Shen raised his eyebrow, “you don’t look like the ex-military type.”
‘Yeah, yeah, forget it I don’t like to talk about it… gives me TPSD,” Greasly waved the matter aside, “anyway, trust me, approach the Crimson Rose and strike a deal with them to distribute. Then we’re sorted.”
Shen crossed his arms, “strike a deal with what? All I have is produce, not capital- this plan was supposed to make me rich.”
“It will! Oh we’re gonna be stinkin’ rich, Shen,” reassured Greasly, “just give ‘em a cut. I tell you what, you don’t even have to take the cut outta your half- who says I ain’t a generous goblin?”
“Distribution comes out of your cut, Greasly!” Shen pushed his extended claw into the goblin’s chest, “when I agreed to this meeting, you promised the world; you said all I would need to do is bring the product, that this would be a ‘get rich quick operation’. You have the buyers, fine, but if you don’t have the ships, you pay for them!”
“What, is this some kind of joke?! Forget it pal, no way, no how and I fronting distribution!” spat the furious Goblin.
“Fine,” Shen knocked his chair back and made to leave the teahouse as the goblin cursed whilst searching his immediate surrounds for a counter.
“We share the costs but I give up exclusivity!” Greasly shouted at the Pandaren, freezing him in place in the doorframe.
“I am free to sell on the open market?” Shen asked, without turning around.
“After you’ve dispatched to my buyers,” Greasly added, “then you can sell whatever else you want, outside of our split.”
Shen stood a moment longer, then strode out the door, “deal.”