"The last thing we need is someone making an ice-cream sundae and mistaking your breakfast for strawberry syrup. And...and some folks don't have the stomach for it. If they knew it was right next to their coffee creamer?"

A shrug. If he'd buy it, she would sell it. But for her part -- and unlike a particular evening so many years ago -- she didn't look away when he sniffed at his meal.

"If you're keen to nuke it? Pick the mug with one that says '1978 Accountants' Conference' on it. There'll be no mug-swapping. I don't want to drink my tea from something with blood stains on it."