This would be my luck.
Elf Lord: "Welcome back merchants! What dwarven goods do you bring? Were you able to convince them of the evils of destroying our precious nature?"
Elf Merchant: "We may be making headway. Sort of. A tiny bit. No probably not. In fact they said, 'Get bent, you tree-f***ing Elf bastards.' I admit I don't know how to properly translate that Dwarven word. "
Elf Lord: "Hmm, yes, I'm sure. Not unexpected from such a distasteful race, however. Then, what of trade?"
Elf Merchant: (not quite looking the Elf Lord in the face) "Weeeellllll.... yes. We did get a lot of stuff from them."
Elf Lord: "Very good."
Elf Merchant: (looking more or less at the Elf Lord's left foot) "Weeeellllll.... yes, but then after trading with us they went ahead and took the rest of our stuff too. But they, uh, they did let us keep the stuff they had already traded us. Quite a lot... of stuff."
Elf Lord: "Indeed? Hmph. Quite odd, but once again, you never can predict how these dwarves will insult you next. So, what did you bring us?"
Elf Merchant: (now looking directly at the ground) "... crfluv uhzd skzzn lkfsf..."
Elf Lord: (raised eyebrow) "Beg pardon?"
Elf Merchant: (shuffling feet, still looking at ground) "Emmm... cart full of ... *cough* ... used, uh, socks. And l-l-l ... loin ... cloths. Sire."
Elf Lord: "Socks."
Elf Merchant: (intensely focused on perhaps an ant or rock) "Yes, Sire."
Elf Lord: "Used socks. And loincloths. Also used, I presume."
Elf Merchant: (or possibly a rare type of beetle) *nods head* mumbles "b'lieve so, Sire."
Elf Lord: "Well then." (pause while the Elf Lord contemplates) "Well then. What kind of. Um. Where did ... that is, from whom did these loincloths come, exactly?"
Elf Merchant: (long, uncomfortable pause) "Sire? I believe goblins ... and ... trolls ... sire?"
Elf Lord: (brightly) "Used troll underwear?" (catches himself, sounds serious) "Ah, yes, um. Well then. Yes. Shall we just have these sent to the tower. Yes. For examination. To determine, uh, how we shall punish the dwarves in return. Yes, punish. Punishment. Bad dwarves. Very very bad boy. *ahem* Yes. I will be in the tower. Very busy. At least a couple hours. Probably rest of the day. Busy busy busy you know. Yes. Oh, uh, send the dwarves some more cloth or something. Yes. Alrighty then, good job! Gotta run."
(exit quickly stage left Elf Lord.)
(Elf merchants shuffle around, intensely not making eye contact with each other, casually pretend they just happened to simultaneously all have to be somewhere else right now. Walk off.)