“Ah rovi, how are you this fine evening?” I ask her but she just says nothing.
She makes some green goopy tea that is weirdly gassy and cold.
Finally she replies with, “fine” and gives me the tea.
I look in to her cup and it is yellow and sweet smelling and she puts in honey lemon which is the last straw. She gives me what is probably poison and a gourmet tea, but before I could say a word she puts a slice of lemongrass in it.
She then takes mine, gives me the nice tea and mutters, “thanks for holding my tea.”
I take a sip and I feel a bit weird in the head.
I fall to my knees and she whispers, “I didn’t want it to look like there was a struggle.”
And she plops me in a pot.