Battle of twits

"I accept," said the youth, who was pretty much bored out of his skull selling water in a cave where nobody ever came anyway.

"Then fill two cups with water," Fred said and took something small from his pocket. Then he took the two full cups, turned away for a while and turned back to put the cups on a rock.

"One of the cups is poisoned?" the opponent asked.

"The other is harmless," Fred replied. "Choose one and drink, I will drink the other."

The water seller sat down regarding the two cups, consulted his notes and started talking. After six hours of intricate reasoning he yelled triumphantly, "You have given everything away!", seized the cup nearest him and raised it to his lips, pausing to see if Fred would drink from the other.

Which was exactly what Fred did. After all he had been going most of the day without a drop, so he made short work of the water. "Then this cup is the poisoned one!" the youth yelled and threw the contents of his cup in Fred's face. Having anticipated this, Fred quickly opened his mouth and got another mouthful which he promptly swallowed.

They sat staring at each other for a minute. "Why aren't you dead?" the youth asked.

Fred smiled and licked a few drops from his lips. "I am an honourable knight. In fact my family name is d'Honaire. Why would I be carrying poison around? The sword is my weapon."

"But, but, the battle of wits..?"

"Is about being one step ahead of the opponent. I just said one cup was harmless, you were the one who assumed the other was not. I didn't even say the 'see who is right and who is dead' line!"

"But... that thing in your hand..."

"This? Just a pencil stub." Fred tossed the writing tool to the youth. "Here, take it. You need to take more notes. Oh, and read some other books beside The Princess Bride."

"So it's a draw then."

"No, I win! I just got a drink of water without paying. Toodle-oo!" He got to his feet and started walking away, then stopped and looked back.

"By the way, you forgot to distract me and switch cups. Technically, you are the dead one."

1. The youth dies from shame.
2. The pencil is poisoned. (Fred wore gloves when handling it.)
3. "Toodle-oo"?? Come on, Fred!
4. As you wish.

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