“Dali blinked at me. "Would you mind making coffee while you're dancing? I smell it on the bottom shelf, either first or second jar on the left." I opened the first jar and looked inside. Coffee. The label said BORAX. "What's up with the labels?" Dali shrugged. "You're in the house of a cat whose job is to spy. He thinks he's clever. I'd be careful with the silverware drawer. There might be a bomb in it.”

“Think of people like bottles full of a liquid inside but without labels; smell the bottle, pour out what is inside and study it carefully. Never mind the labels; pretend that they don’t exist! Labels are misleading!”

“It's too early for there to be any coffee. I stare dully at the empty pot in the common room, while Sam picks up a jar of instant grounds."Don't," I warn him.He scoops up a heaping spoonful and, heedlessly, shovels it into his mouth. It crunches horribly. Then his eyes go wide."Dry," he croaks. "Tongue...shriveling."I shake my head, picking up the jar. "It's dehydrated. You're supposed to add water. Good thing you're mostly made of water."He tries to say something. Brown powder dusts his shirt."Also," I tell him, "that's decaf.”

“Wait!"What?" I lowered my cup hastily, wondering if maybe there was a stray hair, or worse, a newly boiled bug inside my cup.You got to smell it first. It's the proper way to cup coffee."Cup coffee?"Taste it."What? Are you the coffee police or something?”

“Coffee. I could smell coffee. Coffee would make everything better.”

“On the day they dropped the bomb Frank had a tablespoon and a Mason jar. What he was doing was spooning different kinds of bugs into the jar and making them fight....I can remember other bug fights we staged later on...They won't fight unless you keep shaking the jar.”