I drink tea with my brother. Mother next to me, behind the plate, is baking blades. The brother took the sludge in one hand, all dirty in the oil, and the other took a full, hot and smoking cup of tea and broke off. His mouth naturally burned so that the tears turned to his eyes. So he, a pure gentleman, barely swallowing a hellish hot drink, loudly breathing the air, said:
B (I thought it would be) without sugar!