The Ferrari stopped and the tinted window opened to reveal Michael Frankincense, the world class spice dealer. Everyone in Georgia knew of him. If you needed spices, he could get them to you, at a good price too.
One day, Bendrigal Jones needed some turmeric for his special, all-purpose cold remedy. It was cold season in Georgia, and all the Georgians were coming down with the sniffles. Out of desperation, Bendrigal ran across the street in his pants and sandals to catch the attention of Mr. Frankincense, and it's lucky that's all he wore because that's exactly the kind of thing that would draw Michael Frankincense's attention.
"Mr. Frankincense, I'm so sorry for my inappropriate attire, but you're my only hope! I'm out of turmeric and the sniffles are rampant through the state. Do you have any to spare that I may help these poor people?"
"Turmeric? Of course I have turmeric. This baby runs on the stuff!" Michael bellowed, as the hood popped open in a cloud of yellow dust. "Help yourself kiddo!" he added.
"Oh, thank you Mr. Frankincense, I won't forget this. You've shown me tremendous kindness this day!" Bendrigal said.
"Don't I know it kid!" Michael Frankincense yelled back, holding up a cloudy, yellow martini, as the Ferrari screeched away.
The crowd around the streets stood gaping, and sniffling, at the scene, and Bendrigal walked back to his shop with a sack full of turmeric, ready to make his all-purpose remedy for those same people staring.
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