From the Espresso itself: "I awaken no hearts; I simply shock the soul awake. You bemoan Mondays, I laugh at omnipotent rituals of your kind."
Illuminated warnings by the Pyramid's Base Mug: "I wear a chip like a crown on my rim. The inconspicuous stains tell tales drowned in steaming milk rivers. My insides?" Handled with vanity and facade.
Witness the barren altar of the coffee grinder's yearning: "A sprinkle of half-hearted respect for the sacrificial espresso grounds; the truth is distilled, unwitting grind am I."