'Special Hell' is for Starbucks Hero.

There is something cute and cuddly about the Starbucks boys – yes, even the one that is six feet tall with all his piercing and twenty-first century mohawk cut.

I walked into my usual Starbucks caffeine distribution establishment and, for a moment, I saw the redhead popped out from behind the 2 massive espresso machines, in which we secretly called The Two Towers. The head, then, popped out to the cashier side and whispered something to her while throwing me a glance glittered with mischievous before popping back behind The Two Towers.

The cashier girl looked up at me and giggled. "The usual?" She asked.

Moody as any sleepy-head would be before receiving the daily dosage of jolting juice, I nodded and hand her my Starbucks Card. She took it and ran it through the cash register before handing it back to me with a smile, "still asleep?"

I nodded again.

The redhead Starbucks boy popped his face out from the end of The Two Towers where customers receive their drinks. "Here you go," he said. As I reach for my cup, he leaned over the counter and spoke in low voice, "your cup of death."

Then he broke into a smile, a childish prankster I-got-you-this-time!, million-megawatts-brilliant, too bright in the morning smile. It was blinding for a few second. Until I took a sip from the cup, and the bolt of 6-shot espresso jolts hit me. It appears that the little devil also added about 10 extra pumps of Toffee Nut Syrup in my cup.

Good Boy!