It wath a latté, latht week. Nothing thpethial, jutht an ordinary latté to go. It wath in a plathtithithed cup with a moulded lid and a little thpout. The milk wath foamy and cooled quickly. The hot, dreamy coffee flowed through it and wath ath hot ath the very fireth of hell when Thatan cometh back from hith break and addth ekthtra logth or thummat.
I thought I had got away with it. A week went by. Nothing. A week and a half. All well. But eating my meal on Monday night I got the angle right, or maybe wrong (I will have to type an eth thoon, ah there we go) and the new ulther on the end of my tongue awoke and thent needleth thtabbing into the nerve endingth.
Tho friendth, an Alpha Guetht Thupper talk trying to avoid the letter eth. Can't be done. Jethuth ith a bit of a problem thee. And today. By jingo every letter eth or thimilar thound thtabth abd thtabth abd thtabth.
Tomorrow ith a quiet day. I will be very thtill and thilent and the input will be brief. Thtop laughing. You're all rotten bathtardth.