As the train collector finished checking and punching the tickets in the coach, he came and joined the other standing passengers to hang and lean back on the railing to support himself. He rubbed his big stomach. He was a burly man. One will mistake him for a wrestler.
"Beer belly", commented one of the standing male passengers watching him.
"Me?" He queried. "No, I don't drink beers."
"Then why is your tummy so big?" asked the passenger, not giving up easily. "It's only beer that can give one such a big belly."
"Are you saying food cannot make your stomach big?" the train boy queried further. "I don't drink alcohol. I'm a servant of God."
"I don't believe you", continued the passenger, "you must be drinking something else beside water."
"Well, to be honest, I drink only one other thing beside water", admitted the train boy. "It is the other one in sachets. What's the name called?" He looked up for some seconds, then leveled his head and smiled. "Yeah, I remembered, it is called 'Chelsea!'"
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