The blue teacup / A river with a pouring problem
One small sip.
One enormous splash.
At Teacup Rapids, even the waterfalls have handles.
“I asked for a cup of river water. I may have forgotten to mention the size of the cup.”
The bass meant well.
It had found the largest teacup in the canyon and filled it to the brim. Now it was pouring a magnificent waterfall directly across the ferry’s route.
The boat was quite safe in a quiet pool, but the crew could not continue. Every time Rufus raised his little cup, the bass smiled and poured harder.
“Perhaps we should show our friend the amount we mean, instead of cheering at the amount we got.”
Try the pouring conversation
How much river
belongs in a cuppa?
Choose the crew’s signal. Watch the gauge and read how the bass responds. This is a story variation, not a scored challenge.
Just enough for the blue cup
Tilly holds her hands close together. The bass tilts its enormous cup by the smallest amount. A silver thread of water fills Rufus’s cup without disturbing a single biscuit.
The best part
was the pause.
Once everyone understood the size of the request, the river returned to its usual course. Rufus made tea aboard the ferry. Tilly set a biscuit on the rail and watched the bass consider it with an eye larger than the whole tin.
“Not your sort of picnic?” she asked. The bass answered with a bubble shaped exactly like a teacup.
They sat for a while without asking the river to do anything. Then the ferry slipped between the porcelain cliffs, carrying one small cup, one very dry biscuit and a much clearer idea of what “a little” meant.
Follow the compass after tea →