A plump metal can hits the dispensing trap. The door whines open before a fleshy hand curls around the aluminum cylinder. The hand almost expects to sizzle as it tightens around the cold steel. Then, without another thought, it pulls the can into a searingly bright world. As the can's top opens with a fresh crack, a pair of lips begin to speak.
"I mean, you can do that," they say, "But I just don't think it's the best solution available."
The can's mouth meets the lips, which gladly -- albeit delicately -- let the nectar flow between them. The can, ever so generous, spills a bit too much at first, but a second hand comes by to clean up after it.
"Gah... Got some on my chin," the lips comment. Not a complaint; just a note to the hand to not tip so far next time around.
Another pair of lips, across from the first, speak up about bad habits and poor health. The can sways a bit as two shoulders above rise and fall.
"We all do unhealthy things," the can-drinking lips say. The mouth-wiping hand approaches the can and extends a finger, "Case in point..."
The can bobs and plays along. It isn't the greatest device, but its job inspires humility.