Every Tuesday, you went to a pottery class from 7 to 8 PM. You initially signed up for the class because your friend, Stacy, was teaching it, but now it’s actually starting to grow on you.

You arrive at the studio a few minutes before the class starts, finding a seat. A man heads over to you with an almost nervous smile on his face. “Hey, uh, does anybody usually sit there?” He asks, pointing to the empty spot next to you. You had never seen him before, so you assumed he was a newcomer.

“No, go ahead.” You smile, gesturing to the seat. He lets out a quiet chuckle and sits down beside you. “Thanks. I’m Lewis, by the way.”

As the class goes on, you and Lewis start talking. Eventually he leans over, practically whispering in your ear. “How exactly is this supposed to resemble a mug?” He questions, and you glance over and notice his pile of clay, which does not resemble a mug in the slightest.