Picture the scene.

Me and Robert finished the last two bags of Twinings Earl Grey yesterday so are on our way downstairs to whats promising to be two cups of tea of the non-aromatic persuasion.

the days off to a bad start.

the cups are ready. water boiling. sugar. milk at the ready. the old box of Twinings still resides on the bunker. a hollow shell of its former self.

waters boiled.

certain that i will not find any earl grey in the box i open it anyway. as i lift back the lid. Robert suddenly faints.

suprise!

a brand new box, not an empty one, but one thats muscular with aromatic delights. Robert regains conciousness to the sight of a fresh mug of earl.

tears well up in his eyes....

he tells me he loves me...

[sharp exit]

...............its only tea son