While all the items are interesting, what can really compare to total control over someone's mind? Why, it certainly renders the lust powder obsolete, even if it is more than a little evil. Thus decided, you grab the collar and walk up to the front of the store, where the elderly proprietor is hanging a freshly-painted sign over the counter. After he hammers the last nail into place, he turns to you and smiles, gesturing elaborately at the elegant lettering which reads: 'Because I am a wizard.'
"So," he beams, "what do you think?"
You search frantically for a tactful reply. What to say to a grown man in a bathrobe claiming to be a wizard? You've suspected since you first saw his robe that this guy might be more than a little senile—if not actively insane—but you hardly want to say that, especially if it's true.
"It's… nice," you say.
"I most certainly am not!" huffs the old man.
"You're not nice?" you ask nervously.
"What? No, I'm not senile."
You take a step back. "How did you know—"
With a flourish, the old man points to the still-wet sign.
"Um… right," you say.
"Oh, I know you don't yet believe—that doesn't matter. I only mentioned it because you asked. Well, that and perhaps a little excitement with the new sign—but mostly because you asked. I used to have a rather nice one, you know, with embossed gold lettering and all that. I was really quite fond of it. Quite an unfortunate affair what happened. There were these luchadores, and—ah, well, never mind. It's a rather long story and I'm sure you have places to go. Now, what can I help you with?"
Luchadores? As in masked Mexican wrestlers? Whatever—the man's probably crazy anyway. Better to make your purchase and get out.
"So, uh, how much for this collar?" you ask, brandishing it.
The old man turns suddenly serious, all trace of his grandfatherly smile gone.
"I see." he says. "The Collar of Mind Control. That's a very powerful artifact, young man. Are you sure you understand what you're holding there?"
You nod.
"Then you realize that it is not something to be used lightly? Once that collar is around someone's neck, it can never be removed—the individual will be subject you your will for the rest of their natural life. You will have absolute control of everything they think or do. You can make them do anything you wish—even murder. Are you sure you understand?"
"Yeah, I guess," you say, blushing. It sounds a little more evil put like that, but your decision is made.
The old man looks at you sadly. Finally, he nods.
"Very well," he says. "You may have the collar for sixteen dollars and seventy-three cents."
Emptying your pocket, you are surprised to find that you have exactly that amount.
"That's weird, how did you know—"
Once again, the old man simply sighs wearily and points to the sign.
"Oh. Right."
Handing him the money, you pocket the collar and walk hurriedly out of the store.
Once back out in the food court, you idly run your finger along the Collar's edge. Who, you wonder, should wear it? You decide straightaway that if you're going to have mind-control powers over someone you definitely want her to be female, but beyond that you're not sure. The easiest thing would be to simply ask one of your friends to wear it. The only problem with that was that, well, they were your friends. As exited as you are with the prospect of power, you're not yet sure you want to subject your best friends to a lifetime of absolute slavery. You could always trick another classmate into wearing it, you suppose. That said, it looked simple enough to fasten—it shouldn't be too hard to just walk up behind someone and snap it shut. That way you wouldn't have to worry about using it on someone you know at all.