Nothing takes a bigger dump on the morning quite like a faulty Dunks cup. Sure, the coldwar era styrofoam keeps the bevy warm, but it doesn’t stand up to the viking grip of the women who pours my coffee. You either have to go paper, or stop letting the rectangular folks pour the coffee.
Does anyone have Jackie Chiles’ number or a good balm?
Sons of Franky Cabot 
On the bright side, the scalding coffee running down your arm was probably hazelnut with skim milk and 5 Equals and not black w/ 2 sugars the way you ordered it.