In the afternoon following the onset of spring, on the third floor of an apartment by the Wis River.
An elderly woman dressed in a long robe was sitting comfortably in a chair on the balcony, holding up her teacup and saying to the outside:
"Mr. Ronald, this machine-processed tea tastes nothing like the imagined taste of rust. It's completely different from what I expected."
Immediately after, the keen-eared Ronald on the balcony next door heard this sigh.
Leaning back fully in his newly purchased recliner, he replied indifferently:
"Well... that's probably because the tea manufacturing technology is quite good."
As his voice trailed off, the neighboring old witch happily responded:
"I really do love the Springs' tea."
"Mr. Ronald, let's have those friends downstairs buy some other brands of tea for us sometime."
