Pay the salesman

What, you doubt me? Have we met? You don’t become trade prince by making empty threats. The spot ain’t hereditary like that cushy king job those pink-skinned humans get. If I told you thirty-two spies were watching you lick your lips nervously right now, you’d better believe it, pal.

Don’t bother looking around. You won’t see them. Stop wasting my time and risking your life. Twenty thousand gold is a cheap price to pay for my life story. And if you read past this sentence without buying the book, I’ll devote every inch of my empire to destroying you. Do you understand me?
Good. Now, pay the damn salesman.

Done? You sure? Great. Well, thanks for buying my book, sucker. You wanna be a trade prince? I want an army of fel reavers with my face painted over their fists, but negotiations with the Burning Legion fell through, so I guess neither one of us is gonna get what we want.
Why can’t you be a trade prince? Because all the slots are filled by goblins better than you, that’s why. You ain’t ready yet, but don’t worry. You came to the right goblin for help.