I considered Crazy Redd's visit a wake-up call.
You see, out here in the sticks, it's easy to forget that players can still be played. The locals are all so agreeable and naive, handing out items like the Nook-n-Go isn't just a short walk away. But Crazy Redd...
Apparently he blows into town every so often, selling rare furniture. He sets up a tent, puts on his smarmy salesman act, and waits for the starry-eyed morons to wander in.
And I was one of the starry-eyed morons.
If I've ever had a weakness, it's greed. That's why I'm stuck out here, after all. I'm sure Redd sensed this, when my jaw dropped at the copy of NES Balloon Fight sitting innocently in the back of his flimsy tent. The price was 12,000 Bells. Thing is, I would have paid more.
I needed money quick, so I sold off an inflatable moon given to me by Adamsvil's ineffectual figurehead of a mayor, Tortimer. The 8,000 that brought in made the Balloon Fight purchase an easier ride. Balloon Fight quickly earned a place of honor in my home, eclipsing the dusty Donkey Kong Jr. Math I received as part of a temporary armistice with Holliday. Only later that night, when the rush of Balloon Fighting wore off, did I realize how simply Redd had used me. I think the best counter-haggle I gave him was "Oh, really? I'll take it."
Crazy Redd is going to have to be figured into my plans. He's seems immune to my usual manipulations, so I'm going to have to turn him into a usable resource. But if he ever shows up with a copy of Super Mario Bros, I'll have to guard my emotions a little better. Or Legend of Zelda. And what if he has the special gold cart edition? Yes, Redd is a factor I need to consider.
For the moment, I've been beaten. Now it's time to return to business as usual. And more Balloon Fight.
