There'd been times in his life when MacCready'd regularly had burnt coffee or coffee that had at one point been brought to a boil. It was almost always instant, fake coffee. Finding the real stuff was...well, he didn't need to get into it. It wasn't any more bitter than what he was used to and he took a deep swig of it, heedless of the heat. Hot was good. Hot meant it wasn't likely to kill you. "Thanks."