It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The frost worm bites Keyleth, who casts Blight as payback and heals herself. Vax asks Pike for healing, then hits the visible worm.
DM: The other clerk is probably a new hire, you haven't seen him here before. Young, early 20s, very, very thin hair, kind of waify. "Lockpicks? This isn't--"
Player: Yeah, you know. I keep locking myself in the shitter and I'm really tired of asking people to come let me out. It's really--
DM: "I wish I could help. Those are outlawed, I'm sorry. That's not really--"
Player: Look, I've got these huge clumsy-fuck hands. Is there anything you could give me, maybe magical, that would just keep me from being embarrassed in front of my friends? It smells so bad and then they all come and the door opens and it's just awful!
DM: As you're getting closer and closer to him, this, looming goliath who's feigning fear and worry in his face, the guy just retracts. "I'm sorry! I don't-- We're closing shop!"
Player: No, do you have like a wand or a potion or like, a thing--
DM: "Good night!" And he runs up the stairs to the second floor.
Player: Fucking shit. Lovely goods you have here. I'll let myself out.
DM: "We'll come with you don't worry!" He puts his other arm out.
Player: All right.
DM: The three of you arm in arm.
