1 The one time I run out of Extremely Venti Iron Mugs, in which we serve everything from espresso shots to caramel frappuccinos, someone accidentally leaves their paper cup on a table for the world to see. But the money was right, and running Westeros’ only Starbucks made me a hit at company retreats. Sure, I’ve lost three baristas-to greyscale, not the competition (there isn’t any).
And for years, things were good: Sure, spelling “Jaqen H’ghar” on a cup is never easy, and if you get it wrong, he kills you and takes your face. It seemed like an idea that would leave me swimming in Lannister-level gold: selling hot coffee and melty paninis in a world characterized by the eternal imminence of winter.
