A Stranger At The Millennium Market

One day at a cake shop,
I met a man selling cookies,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some bookies.

"Got any bookies?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No bookies here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely cakes,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some headaches."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally attractive,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call overactive,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit tall.
Still, he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty cool.

So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the cake shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."

"Cookies, bookies, you shall find.
Cakes, headaches, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to Millennium Market.

So to Millennium Market I decided to go,
In search of the bookies I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling pictures,
Flowers in many shades.
There were even stalls selling tele-pictures
People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather tall
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all cool.

Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some bookies!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some cakes and cookies.

"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the bookies she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.

As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?