Just Pixels

So you may recall our adventures of yesterweek with Sir Nicholas and his Chrome Brewer. And bless my percolator, what an epic in the annals of blogdom lore that was! But, just when you thought the bar was raised to such lofty, caffeinated heights, Sir Nicholas pulled out all the stops.

That's right. Hold on to your french presses. Sir Nich is packing some new hardware that's made a dark, rich and full bodied splash into his life, and those of his compadres. So, we join Sir Nicholas in his most recent adventure. A literal sword-from-stone experience. Thus, the tale of Sir Nich and the Vetrano Brewer unfolds...


Behold, the chromy chromyness, high-tech piping and shimmering aura of latent power — The Vetrano Brewer. I would give you some specs but I don't know them. True coffee lovers (you know yourselves), you'll know them already.


Golden river of goodness. "I'll have to dial in the machine" Sir Nich idly proclaims, without concern or care. Remarkable brewing prowess, certainly.


Latte pour.


And here we introduce heroines Rachel (L) and Sally, friends of old, united by spring break. Rach and Sal were classmates and friends in Kazakhstan where both spent some significant years growing up. Many interesting stories of life in C. Asia betwixt these two this week. Rach now calls the Golden State home where she is an aspiring blogger, among other things.


Madam Rachel's affinity for the jo. She is a fast friend at coffee time.


And then the peace pipe happened upon Madam Schupack The Virtuous. Things started out neutral enough. But...


...she perhaps dislikes Sir Nich's fare wethinks...


...yes, tis official. tastebud and pleasure center are in formal disagreement.

"Oh GOSH. It's SO bitter...it's terrible" saith Madam Schupack. We translated this statement to be on the negative side of the spectrum...


...and then laughter as a dismissive coping mechanism...


And so Madam Rachel's beverage returned to her as quickly as it left. And Madam Schupack eased into an unsettling aftertaste, thus dispelling the notion that all royalty have a palate for the finer things. Alas, the journey of beveragic sanctification is long, and some are but fresh upon it.


And Madam Somaria was there too, the supportive and yet caffeinatedly uninterested wife of Sir Nicholas. Hail, Madam Somaria. May your mild disinterest temper Sir Nich and thus save the kingdom from coffee-induced bankruptcy.

The End.