This exertion seemed to have exhausted Faust; he slumped over for a bit, muttering under his breath. He looked like he was slightly unhinged (and he was), but what he was really doing was placing a minor hex on the coin. Namely, attaching bad luck to whosoever actually managed to pick the thing up. Probably the owner, but maybe just some poor schmuck.

Misery loved company, after all.