I used to work with a Scandinavian guy who was the self-appointed coffee maker. He would have the coffee ready by the time everyone else arrived in the morning. He always brewed too much. There would almost always be three or four cups left in the pot way past lunch. At least once a week around 2:30 or 3:00 he would ask around if anyone wanted any more coffee. Of course nobody did because it was nearly asphalt by that time after sitting on the heat all day. He would then take the pot and pour the remaining coffee into the water tank and run it through the old coffee grounds again. The paste that came out of that poor coffee maker was absolutely disgusting and he loved it.
Now I don't like the smell of coffee at the best of times
(I've never had a cup of coffee, ever) but the smell of his twice-brewed tar would turn my stomach. It was next level bad.