The Scary Old BlackForest

And so NescaFrodo, our unwitting and unwanting hero, marched forth with his trusty and loyal server Sanka at his side and followed close behind by his adventure-and-good-sense-starved cousins, MochaMerry and Drippin.

"Quit stepping on my heels, Drippin!" said NescaFrodo, for the fourth time since they left TeaBagEnd.

"I'm sorry, NescaFrodo, but this Old Black Forest is so dark and scary!" Drippin squeaked, clinging to NescaFrodo's arm.

"What's wrong, Drippin?" MochaMerry teased his younger cousin, "Are you afraid of the trees? They don't eat half-caffs, you know?"

"Then why are they all wearing bibs and smacking their lips when we walk by?" asked Drippin.

MochaMerry laughed heartily at him, until he stumbled over something hidden in the undergrowth. A small white skull rolled across the path and stopped at the root of one tree. The tree grinned innocently.

"Wait! Listen..." NescaFrodo said, pausing on the path. Distantly, above the sound of a tree's growling stomach, he could hear a whistle, like steam from a simmering kettle. "And look! I think there is a path here. Let's follow it. We must find a way out of this strange forest!"

The path was faint, and the half-caffs had to pick their way carefully along, stepping over the bleaching bones of unfortunate wayfarers and partially digested naturalists, whose surprised expressions could sometimes still be discerned.

"I'll cheer you up, lads!" announced NescaFrodo. He began to sing a song, to try to lift his friends lagging spirits:

O! Lingerers in the Starbucks line
Swear not! for the coffee's fine,
your time will come to order at last
though you've missed your bus and the day's flown past:
Watch the rising sun, the setting sun
Standing in line is so much fun!
For this queue moves slower than a snail...

"Um, that's nice," said MochaMerry quietly, "but do shut up, NescaFrodo! You are making me crave coffee..."

"Look there!" cried Sanka, pointing.

The half-caffs looked ahead, and there in a clearing that looked as if there had once been a great bonfire, stood a strange creature. It was silver and black, blocky and tall, and there was foam frothing from its dispenser. All the air in the glade bore the strong scent of thick Italian coffee.

MochaMerry grinned, "Now that would cheer me up! Espresso anyone?"

"Me! Me!" said Drippin, and he and MochaMerry ran forward heedlessly. NescaFrodo and Sanka hung back, not liking the look of the thing.

"I do not understand or like machines more complicated than a forge-bellows, a water-mill, or a hand-loom, Mr. NescaFrodo, and that thing don't look like neither! Do you think it is safe?"

Just then, the great machine bend down and gulped both silly young half-caffs into its great metal maw, and closed its lid on their squeals of fright.

"That would be a 'no', Sanka," answered NescaFrodo.