[Thirty fucking hurts compared to what he's used to spending, but he's getting the sense that it might genuinely be the best deal he can get out here. If vide noir was forty, then a little packet of shrooms at thirty is just going to have to satisfy. So despite his visible grimace, he digs out his wallet.]

Yeah, man. Couplea times. Here -

[Good thing he's been avoiding actually paying for things as much as possible since getting this cash. Thirty comes out of his wallet, and he trades it off. Dante tucks the bills into a pocket, pours a mix of the little mushrooms onto a scale and weighs out the eighth of an ounce, then sweeps them up into their own baggie and passes that back.]

You'll like 'em, you'll want more. Come on back any time, you know where to find me.