A sellsword walked into a crowded inn, carrying a hilt with no blade.

“What’s with the broken sword?” the innkeep asked.

“It’s a long story,” the sellsword said. “Give me a drink.”

The barmaid arrived not long after with his drink. “What’s with the broken sword?” she said.

“It’s a long story,” the man said. “Give me something to eat.”

When the cook arrived with the sellsword’s meal, he saw the hilt on the table. “What’s with the broken sword?” he asked.

“It’s a long story,” was the reply. “I need to stable my horse.”

While leading his horse in for the night, the stablehand saw the hilt. “What’s with the broken sword?” he said.

“It’s a long story,” the man said. “I need a room for the night.”

The innkeeper’s wife was leading the sellsword up to his room when she noticed the hilt. “What’s with the broken sword?” she said. “You’ve avoided telling my whole staff the story, but you’re not going to evade me so easily.”

“It’s a dagger,” the man said.

“A dagger?” said the inkeeper’s wife. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“I said it was a long story. I didn’t say it was a longsword.”

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