NationStates

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[b]Items you possibly want to buy:[/b]
[b]Items you possibly want to sell:[/b]
[b]Should I send you telegrams when I reply?[/b]


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[b]Item you want to sell:[/b]
[b]How many, in numbers or units:[/b]
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[b]Total Cost:[/b]


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[b]Item you want to buy:[/b]
[b]How many, in numbers or units:[/b]
[b]Cost:[/b]
[b]Total Cost:[/b]


TO: Glassian Exports & Trade Hub, The Glass Oasis
FROM: Doktor Wunderbar, The Scientific Technocracy of Ximea
SUBJ: Trade

MSG BEGINS:

We have received your offer to form trade agreements. We are interested in some of the commodities you have to offer.

We are particularly interested in your teleporter technology, and we would like to know how they work.

Furthermore, we are intrigued by your whimsically-named animals and request further information about them.

In return, we can offer biomedical services in a wide variety, as well as high-quality pharmaceuticals and artificially grown meats of both domesticated and wild food animals.

MSG ENDS

Ximea wrote:

African blackwood furniture with decadent leather upholstery, rich mahogany wall paneling, shelving groaning with many leather-bound books, and a currently-open liquor cabinet formidable in its size and in the quality of its inventory gave the room a sophisticated yet indulgent ambiance. The air was incensed with fine spices and the scent of fine cigars - not smoke, but the un-burnt article. Within this room, the most powerful man in one of the world's most powerful and scientifically advanced nations nursed a glass of whiskey and read through the notice on his screen again.

"Glassian Exports & Trade Hub," Doktor Wunderbar intoned. As leader of the executive branch of the Ximean government, his full title was Omnipotent Alcoholic Plague Doktor, and though he was not omnipotent in the proper sense of the word, the rest of the title suited him well. He was dressed all in black, with gloves and boots of fine Moroccan leather, a wide-brimmed hat, and a black Howie coat in place of the traditional waxed leather of the 17th-century plague doctors of Europe. And yes, he wore a beak mask, which he now lifted to take another sip of his whiskey.

"Currently selling...an assortment of cheeses...what's Glassian cheese?"

Becchino, his assistant, refilled his glass and looked over his shoulder at the screen. "Cheese, one would assume, from the Glass Oasis."

"You're fired," the Doktor said, taking another sip. He continued reading. "Glass...well, that makes sense. Hen hens, roostros...are these poultry or Pokémon?"

"Potentially both, sir, if they're edible," Becchino said.

"I like the way you think. You're hired." Another sip as the Doktor continued to read. "More poultry, steel, and - " He looked up. "Do we have teleporters?"

"We do not. At least, not for practical purposes," Becchino explained. "Quantum teleportation of particles is routine in our laboratories, but when we tried to build a scaled-up device at the Desolate Sands test site, we caused a quantum vacuum collapse and the world ended."

"The world...ended."

Becchino nodded.

Doktor Wunderbar slammed back his drink. "I want one."

TO: Glassian Exports & Trade Hub, The Glass Oasis
FROM: Doktor Wunderbar, The Scientific Technocracy of Ximea
SUBJ: Trade

MSG BEGINS:

We have received your offer to form trade agreements. We are interested in some of the commodities you have to offer.

We are particularly interested in your teleporter technology, and we would like to know how they work.

Furthermore, we are intrigued by your whimsically-named animals and request further information about them.

In return, we can offer biomedical services in a wide variety, as well as high-quality pharmaceuticals and artificially grown meats of both domesticated and wild food animals.

MSG ENDS