Pan in Pandora's Shop

The bell jangled as the door opened, announcing my arrival to the jumpy clerk who immediately left the counter and came to greet me and warn me of the dangers of entering his shop. Signs everywhere warned the browser not to touch any of them, to leave that to the trained professional, so his words were unnecessary and grated on my nerves.

“Welcome to Pandora’s Clocks! Please browse our fantastic selection, but do not touch! Is there anything I can help you find?”

“My apologies good sir, but I’m afraid Pan has entered your store, move very slowly.”

“A pan?”

“No Pan, a faun.”

“No deer have entered here..”

“No a satyr! An Ancient Greek half-goat, the god of theatrical criticism and fields, groves, and woods. Pan is his name.”

Before the nimble man could speak again, a clatter was heard at the far end of the store.
“Not the greed clocks! The gold filigree!”
A shadow sped from the end of one aisle to another and I pulled my weapon. The man saw me aim it, elbows locked.
“NO! You’ll cause mayhem and havoc!”

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