I was busy attending to my personal affairs the other day, when the notion of a cup of tea crossed my synapses. I summoned one of the serving wenches and ordered a gallon of tea.
Unfortunately, when the liquid was delivered to my boudoir, it had the consistency of porridge and the taste of excrement. Naturally, I horsewhipped every single member of staff to within an inch of their life.
How might I encourage the production of an acceptable cuppa?
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