It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Percy goes with Keyleth and Tiberius to look for ammunition supplies. Though black powder is not a commonly-sold commodity in Vasselheim, Percy manages to find one eccentric older man who sells it.
DM: "Glorious!" He turns around and jams the hog head into the barrel of black powder, picks it up. (poof) The soot settles against you and the rest of you guys as you now find yourself partially covered in this slowly dissipating cloud of black powder. (coughs) You cough instinctively and push it away. "Yes. 400 gold. You pay?"
Player: I gingerly put the purse down in front of me.
DM: He takes it. With a whisk, it's already put away into a side pouch, and you hear the clanging of haphazard coins in his far pocket. "Here! Hog head! Take it! (grunts) To Samson! This way!" And he grabs your arm and drags you out of his hovel. He points across the way with his shaking, crooked finger. "Samson! There! In the brick building! Tell him Victor sent you. He'll give you ore!"
Player: Thank you for all of your help. You've been so kind.
DM: "My pleasure. You want more powder, come back. Yes, yes?!"
Player: I might do that.
DM: "Good! Goodbye!" And pushes you out, takes both of you by the arms and pushes you out, slams the door behind, and you are left standing there, half-covered in blackened soot and black powder, in the center of the thoroughfare, midday, stunned by the whole encounter.
