Poor Xur. He gets a bad rap when not even [i]he[/i] gets to choose what he brings. Supposedly, at least, but that's beside the point. I imagine Xur hanging at Bungie HQ on Thursday nights, doing his best to avoid leaving for the weekend. "Can I just sell Gjallarhorn this week? That's what everyone wants? And everyone in the Tower hates me! I can tell from how they look at me after looking at my wares and before going straight to orbit, a curse on their lips! I'm literally the worst traveling salesman of all time, and I can't even choose my own inventory! Who does that?! That's the [i]opposite[/i] of supply and demand! No one's given me coins in months and rent's coming up! At...at least let me just take that stack of heavy synth? Someone almost stabbed me last week with Red Death. He had just come from the moon, and screamed something about Hunger of Crota and just lunged at me. I'm...I'm just scared is all...." Bungie's reply? "Sorry, Xur, but you're random. There's nothing to be done about it, little guy. Have fun with your friends!" And with an encouraging slap on the ass, Bungie ushers Xur back to the Tower, where he cries and cowers for two days straight, wondering how he's going to pay off his gambling debt if he's never lucky enough to sell something the Guardians want.