Last year, my flatmate Steve Stevingtons left his job.
“You’re crazy!”, I told him. “It’ll never work!”
Steve Stevingtons simply smiled to himself, an enigmatic look in his eye. My protests – delivered at full volume and more or less constantly whenever he was in earshot over the ensuing months – never seemed to sway him. “There’s no life out there!” I’d shout. “You’ll starve! You’ll waste away to nothing! You’ll end up on the streets!”
Steve would just shake his head, and go back to tending the little plants in his window box.
I was a fool, of course, but I didn’t know it back then. I should have guessed. Steve Stevingtons had a plan. Since that first day, and continuously soundtracked by my heckles and shouts from the other end of the flat, he’s crafted himself a business empire.
Now the whole world is chowing down on Steve’s Leaves. We’re all getting our fix of roughage and wholesome nutrients from Steve Stevingtons. His commercial dominance is starting to rival that of Big Frank. And believe me, I will never doubt him again.
The people have spoken and…
… is what they said. Never let it be said that here at Pouringbeans we don’t give the people what they want. We do, we always do, and we give them it in spades. SPADES!
Without any more fuss, let me present to you, straight from the ever-busy laboratories of Kevindo Menendez…
Antimatter Water
In an interview with New Scientist, Menendnez said:
The article goes on to state that “In 1999, NASA gave a figure of $62.5 trillion per gram of antihydrogen” so we can only gasp in awe at the sheer cost of the singular glass of Antimatter Water that Menendez managed to create.
The glass of impossibly expensive anti-water will be presented to a Mr. C. Marshall, along side a selection of budget waters from Aldi, at an upcoming meeting to discuss the ludicrous installation of additional eyes to Mr. Marshall’s face.