Designed by Mark Latham
For 1 or 2 players, aged 14 to adult
So, I work from home (if what I do all day really counts as work). I have a little nook all my own, which is actually an extension on the front of my kitchen. It's quiet for most of the day, it's nice and bright, and most importantly of all, I'm incredibly close to my kettle. Because tea is basically the thing that makes me function on a level that closely approximates the way I have determined other humans are supposed to act.
But I'm not precious about my tea. I don't use loose leaves, I don't use a teapot, and I don't think I even own a cup and saucer.
No, I brew my tea in the mug I'm going to drink it from. I squeeze the teabag, and tannic acid be damned. I even add the milk before I take out the teabag. It's not like anybody else is here to see me do it.
Part of the reason for my complete disregard for any kind of etiquette.... drunkiquette?*... is because I'm always in a hurry. And being in a hurry comes with it's own tea-related problems. For example, quite often I'll put the teabag and the water in a mug, and then I think, "I'll just leave that to brew for a minute." And then I'll go off and do something else.
Eventually I'll come back to my tea to discover it's completely stewed. It'll have that gross film over the top that breaks up and sticks to the sides when you stir it, and it'll be just the wrong side of drinking temperature. And I'll make a sort of half-hearted attempt to sip at it, but really I've left it just a bit too long, and my hearts not in it, and the idea of tea isn't quite as appealing as it was 20 minutes ago.
Then I'm a bit sad.
And this, if you hadn't figured it out, is an incredibly laboured metaphor for my review for The Walking Dead: All Out War. And by "my review," I mean this review. The one you're reading. The slightly lukewarm one that my hearts not really in.
