Coffee Cup with a crack in it

I’m selling my prized coffee cup after it’s developed a crack in it. Now, ordinarily I’d just throw the thing away and order a replacement, but it’s not a regular crack.

I’ve glimpsed what lies beyond, and I can’t say I’m that fussed about it. If you’re an expert Lovecraftologist you’d be able to determine what kind of coffee-mug-sized abyssal horrors lie within the tear in reality, and maybe even extract a Bargain or two from them before the rift destabilizes and eliminates the neighborhood. I’ve dabbled in demon deals, but I’m no master by any sense of the word.

I’m fairly sure this came about because the cup itself is an anomaly, since it also turns any liquid you put into it into coffee. Really, really good coffee, made just how you like it. Yes, any liquid (except perhaps Universal Solvent).

My leading theory is that it’s pulling coffee from some kind of dimension where everything is coffee, and it’s always delicious. The development of the crack means I’m unsure if it still works – I’m rather hesitant to use it with the crack in it.

Oh, if you know how to repair reality tears instead, I’ll happily pay you for the trouble. It’s my favorite mug after all.

If you’re looking to buy it, I’ll pay barter with you – I have bag of galaxy marbles, mint condition.

No lowballs please, it’s a GOOD mug.

Call me on [REDACTED]

Kardashev Type-II Ant Farm

So let me preface this by saying I’m not the most organised person.
One morning about two weeks ago I was in a rush to get to work when I spilled some of my thermoblast 20 sugar extra-long black on the kitchen bench, of course I left it there. That night when I got back home my bench was crawling with ants. So I did what any sane person would do and swept them into the sand-filled terrarium of my deceased lizard Kermit.

The next morning when I checked on them they had made some sort of pyramid and were looking up into the sky, at me, as they beheaded one of their own, whilst all in unison emitting a slight hum. As you can imagine I was shook, I sat down, and tried to discern the meaning of this over a coffee when it hit me- they think I’m their god. I scratched out a little well in their container and poured in some coffee before proceeding to go about my day.

Over the next few days I continued this ritual and watched as their civilization kept advancing.
Eventually I couldn’t even tell what they were up to and it was clear they had advanced far beyond us.
Then one night a huge hologram was blasted above the terrarium where an ant, wearing some super stylish jumpsuit, thanked me in perfect [LOCAL LANGUAGE].

Man, honestly they’ve started sending out probes now and are terraforming the fruit bowl, so if anyone wants a super-advanced coffee-addicted ant farm, contact me, I’m letting this one go for a reasonable price.

[LOCAL GREETING]