The cataclysmic catastrophical calamitical case of the coffee

 

The cataclysmic catastrophical calamitical case of the coffee

Iago thought it'd be a truly devilish thing to open a coffee shop.
Iago has no coffee.
Only asparagus...and Sunset Yellow, a food colouring with adverse affects.
Othello is literally the only customer.
Certain things happen in a certain order.
Cassio enjoys floors a perfectly reasonable amount.

Kudos are as nice as custard creams and jaffa cakes. Just saying. I'm also awesome ,so like...

Iago is the drop-dead sexy barista at Othello's weirdo coffee shop. Iago however, secretly doesn't have any coffee, so he just blends asparagus and then adds the food colouring, Sunset Yellow.

Iago is fully aware of the adverse effects of the dye because of the many chromatgraphy practicals he encountered in his youth, however he shuns this information back into the abyss.

When first faced with Iago's coffee, Othello was dubious, as although the barista was hot af, the coffee was yellow af. But Iago was never one to accept defeat that easily, besides he loved those who attempted to play hard to get.

Everyday, after his shift, he would go down to Othello's table, and in his sexy apron sexily sit himself down. He would tell Othello not to doubt the coffee, because surely if Iago loved him, then why on earth would he not give him the finest coffee on Cyprus?

Othello protested, weakly trying to regain all sense of control, straining immensely at the urge to not whisk the glorious specimen of a man away to the staff room and have his way with him. But no, bloody Othello was bloody married to bloody Desdemona. He wondered if you could give wives up to charity...Roderigo was in dire need...

Suddenly, Othello realised he was meant to be saying something about doubting Iago's coffee like 20 lines ago, so he said something.

'Iago, how can I trust your coffee, when I am an idiot, and do not appreciate daffodils, and your coffee is yellow. It seems to me like you have an ulterior daffodil related motive!!!!'

In a fit of sexually tense anger, he grabbed Iago by the neck, ignoring the fact they were sitting at a table and it wasn't physically possible, Othello was just so random like that. Othello murmured sweet nothings against his ear because it seemed like a great idea at a time, but like this is Othello what great independent thinking power were you expecting. Things like 'I demand ocular proof', 'visible proof' 'proof that I can see because it's the good quality expensive proof', causing Iago to shudder.

Then, without warning, Iago swung his toned, muscled arm to dump coffee all over Othello.

Othello gasped. This was a sign. The proofiest proof. Iago reciprocated his feelings.

'afsgshahi ajsjajaj', he thought.

Iago smirked.

Some of that pestilence had slopped it's way into Othello's ear. The carcinogens were working.

Othello started pelting dictionaries at Cassio, who was casually making pretend snow angels on the floor of the coffee shop like the innocent bean he was.

'Owwwwww' monotoned Cassio.

Iago threw the magic handkerchief. Cassio imploded within three days. Iago silently cheered. 'Hooray', he did not say.

The battle had been won.