The professor still gets the spooks just thinking about it.
But the professor is getting ahead of himself.
Here’s what happened:
On one fateful day, this professor was walking down his long driveway to check his mailbox, when the mailman suddenly appeared.
“Here you are, Professor Duke,” he said, placing only one envelope in my hands.
“It this all?” I asked, for the professor was a expecting a bit more than just one envelope.
“Yes, it is. But look at it. That envelope is from a tea company. Maybe they sent you a free sample of tea?”
“Really? How would you know?”
The mailman seemed to get a bit bashful. “Well, you see, I frequently get such packages myself!”
And the professor proceeded to rip open the envelope.
(I should say, the professor was never a patient sort of professor.)
“See?” the mailman said, pointing to the small, square package inside the envelope. “There’s your free tea sample. Now, what flavor did they send you?”
“It seems to be Watermelon tea.”
“Watermelon?” The mailman made a face. “Well, no harm done. Sometimes you just gotta practice liking something. And liking that…may take a bunch of practice.”
“Not at all,” I said defensively. “I’m sure the professor will love this flavor–without practicing to like it.”
In truth, though, I don’t think the professor was being too honest.
“Good luck, then.”
The professor returned to his house.
Needless to say, the professor brewed the tea and tried it.
I shouldn’t have.
It came very close to ending my life.
You see, the professor wasn’t the one who needed to practice liking the stuff, the company needed to practice coming up with less deadly flavors.
Just so we’re clear, PF, the professor does not endorse Watermelon tea–of any sort, that is.
A question now, faintly related to the rest of this post. What are you currently practicing, PF? The professor was practicing the art of throwing knives, but now that it’s getting quite cold, the activity has ceased.
And a picture.
This is what the professor looks like when he gets angry–or drinks Watermelon tea.