“…tastes like normal milk.”
“…that's it?” The woman frowned, stopping halfway through writing down his comment. She mumbled, “That's just it? Nothing jumping out at you?”
“It just tastes like the milk I get at the gas station,” Emilio continued flatly. “What now?”
The woman's lips twisted, but she just nodded towards Cup B next. Emilio grabbed the container and drank up its contents just like before. And like before, he set the cup down and said “... still pretty much tastes like milk and stuff.”
The woman's brow furrowed for a second. She jotted down the notes and nodded towards the next cup to drink. Emilio did so once again, though his response this time was better.
“Well, that one tasted a bit smoother and sweeter than the other two, but still pretty much like regular milk.”
“Right, right…” the glasses-wearing girl murmured, writing that piece of info down. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, please, try the last cup and tell me what you think of that.”
Emilio sighed, but quickly downed the drink. As the liquid washed across his mouth, over his tongue and teeth, he felt his mouth tingle. The taste of it was quite delicious, sweet and processed in way that he had never tasted milk quite like it before. It was hard to describe, but he knew one thing.
“Huh… this is pretty good!” Emilio remarked, setting the cup down. “It’s sweet and quite tasty. It’s not like any other milk I’ve tried before… are you sure it is from a cow-girl?”