Stabilized Love

It’s been a while since we’ve been able to dip into our library of branded content romance novels, but luckily, we found one that just happens to involve today’s product. Get ready for a tale of desire and medical emergencies in these excerpts from Gene Harmony’s Love Is A Medicine Best Served At The Appropriate Temperature(s).

People were always asking Dale to open jars because of his amazingly strong arms. And people were also always asking why, when he could so easily be a model, he chose to work at the front desk of a pharmaceuticals lab. “Not everyone wants to be on the runway,” he’d say with a smile of clean white teeth that reinforced his model-like qualities. The real answer, though, was that he’d always had the desire to save lives. Working here, where so many important medications were developed, was the closest he could get.

Dale wasn’t the only one in the lab whose good looks were surprising. Rumor had it that Dr. Liza modeled to pay her way through graduate school on the way to becoming the world’s foremost expert on life-saving drugs. Whether that was true or not, Dale had to admit: she was beautiful. Even now, as she rushed up to the desk in her lab coat, clearly flustered, she looked exquisite.

Dale thought maybe she was coming to flirt, something that happened often, though nothing ever came of it. She was a lauded scientist, after all, and he a lowly receptionist. But flirting was not on the agenda today.

“Can I ask a big favor?” she said. “No one else is available to help and there’s a patient in need of an experimental medication. We have to get to the hospital, so it can be safely administered. Could you give me a ride?”

“No problem,” Dale said, standing.

“But there is a problem,” Dr. Liza said. “It’s a complicated medication, comprised of three very volatile liquids that cannot be combined until the last possible minute before being administered. Also, each substance must be kept within a certain temperature range. If I leave them in their test-tubes, they’ll grow too warm or too cold on the ride over.”

“I have just the thing,” Dale said.

Dale and Dr. Liza carried the four Primula 20oz Insulated Mugs out to his car: three filled with temperature controlled substances, one extra, “Just in case,” Dr. Liza had said.

“We need to be careful with these,” she said now, but it was not an issue at all, given that the Primulas’ contemporary attractive twist-textured design allowed for a secure grip. Not to mention they were splash-resistant! “And you’re sure they’re not contaminated?”

“Absolutely,” said Dale. “It’s very easy to clean the mugs themselves. And I put the lids through my dishwasher at home, on the top rack, where it’s safe for them to go.”

Dale could tell that Dr. Liza, though still nervous, was happy to hear this. And she was even happier when she saw that all four mugs fit into the various front- and back-seat cup-holders of Dale’s modest hatchback. “Like a glove,” she murmured to herself. “Maybe I’ll be okay after all.”

“What’s that?” Dale said.

But Dr. Liza didn’t repeat herself.

They’d left the lab an hour ago. The hospital was only five miles away. Yet, they found themselves only halfway there, stuck in unmoving bumper-to-bumper traffic. The reprieve in Dr. Liza’s anxiety, brought on by the various positive aspects of the Primula 20oz Insulated Mugs, proved temporary. Out of the corner of his eye, Dale had watched her grow more and more upset–first sitting straight up, then tapping her fingers on the dash and sighing loudly.

When she finally spoke, her voice cracked with fear. “It’s no use. We’re getting nowhere. We need to administer the medication now.”

“But how are we going to do that?” Dale said. “The patient is at the hospital.”

“No, I said we need to go to the hospital so they can administer it safely. The patient isn’t there. Not yet. She’s here. Dale, it’s me.”

“What?!”

“Look at me, Dale,” Dr. Liza said. “You’re going to have to administer the drug that’ll save my life from the disease I’ve kept a secret all these months.”

“But, but…”

“There are no buts about it,” Dr. Liza said. She pointed to one of the Primula 20oz Insulated Mugs. “See that Primula 20oz Insulated Mug? You told me that–with its double walls, vacuum seal, and triple-layer Copper Cold Technology–it can keep liquids hot for up to 8 hours and cool for 24. It makes sense that you’d have such a mug, because you’re a lot like it. You want to save lives. I’ve seen it in your eyes, and like a giant beautiful man-shaped Primula 20oz Insulated Mug, you keep that desire at the appropriate temperature so that it never dies.”

Dale nodded. She was right. He’d waited his whole life for this. Without a word, he got the empty Primula and carefully mixed the contents from the others together in it. “Now, what do I do?”

“It needs to be applied to my lips,” Dr. Liza said. “But first, it requires vermilion stabilization, meaning it must be applied to a healthy pair of lips, and then transferred from those lips to the taker’s.”

Dale understood what he must do. He gravely opened the easy-open, easy-close lid. It was straw-compatible but he didn’t need one now. He let the liquid touch his lips, and then he leaned over the center console to Dr. Liza…

Dale paced. He held a Primula 20oz Insulated Mug. He had cleaned it and filled it with coffee from the hospital waiting room two hours ago when he arrived, and it was still hot.

Finally, the doctor appeared. “She’s recovering,” he said, “thanks to that experimental drug she made and thanks to your administering of it. Still, to be safe, we’ll give her regular doses of it every four hours.”

“And how will you give it to her?” Dale said, feeling strangely jealous. “Do you have a machine for vermilion stabilization?”

The doctor looked at him, confused.

“You know,” Dale said. “It needs to be applied from healthy lips to the lips of the diseased.”

“It’s taken orally, son,” the doctor said. Then a sly grin came across his face. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say someone has a crush on you!”