“ COFFEE , ” they state very simply , setting a mug down on the table . she almost seems to appear out of nowhere . it’s fresh , steaming , and strong ; oliver always describes it as ‘ strong enough to drink you back ’ . hands rummage in apron pockets , then a single , thin red straw is dropped into the mug . “ i promise you , i didn’t put any chemicals or anything to make you see ghosts or turn the frogs gay or anything . ” she cocks her head towards the grouchy middle aged man in the far corner booth , all hunched up in flannel and denim and wrapped in the scent of cheap whiskey . “ that’s what he thinks and refuses to drink the coffee i serve . he’ll eat the pancakes , though . APPARENTLY POISONING is only possible in COFFEE . ”