0

Cigar City/Mikkeller Life is Like, A Cherry Cordial Trainwreck of Saccharine Proportions

I think I have finally figured the modern beer community out: shitty tastings have generated the worst scores/reviews ever.  First Untappd introduced this single digit system for beta casuals to quickly log their 1 ounce pours, then BeerAdvocate, never slow to the development game, added a single digit feature like 5 years later.  You see these photos of 71 bottles at a share, and 19 redfaced greasy dudes, one sad asian girlfriend, and wonder “what the fuck are these people even doing?”  The end result is the fanfare and celebration of today’s undrinkable glucose leviathan.  Sure if you have a 2 ounce pour, the relentlessly sweet and aggro beer will stick out and you can quickly drop a “5” on an unbalanced monster before moving on to a BORING NOT EVEN SOUR saison, “3.5.”  In this format of increasingly rare beers and tickers who need to supplement their self esteem with honorary pours, of course you will need a cadre of dumbshits to land all these bottles, and they will all open them on the same day and split them like fractals into ever infinitesimal bits.

Today’s beer is perfect for the emerging community.

This beer is a perfect 100/100 on BA.  It is flawless to those people.

This beer is a perfect 100/100 on BA. It is flawless to those people.

Cigar City, Flerida

15% abv milk sweet stout with confectioner’s sugar and Dr. Pepper soda syrup added

A:  Ok so it’s a 15% milk stout, so we get those deep black tones and beautiful beige foam capping things off.  You get streaky lacing and it is admittedly a very pretty beer.  It doesn’t stain the shit out of your glass like Huna or Abyss and things seem pretty okay…for now.

everything seems okay at first

everything seems okay at first

S: WAIT ONE SECOND, I think someone swiped my bottle of BCBS and dumped a few capfuls of cherry Nyquil into it.  There’s sticky mexican chocolate from the Panaderia and then this intense red life savers, sucrets, cherry cordial, a sort of port sherry meets Nestle Quik with a 5 hour boil.  The whole thing wraps up with a sort of black patent malt sharpie undercurrent that is Mikkeller’s own panache and spin on a milk stout pumped with Mako straight from Shinra.

T:  Oh god, the nightmares just keep intensifying and the cherry trees from Oz molest me relentlessly.  This has an incredible burst of melted fruit roll up, cadburry creme eggs, cherry gushers, and waves upon waves of hefty Betty Crocker frosting.  It’s like when you finish cooling stout wort and dip your finger in and taste it, then you mix that with a Roy Rodgers.  Grenadine notes are on full pump, like they made this chocolate Tyrant with one huge cherry tree for an arm and only Umbrella Corp could engineer such a behemoth to be released upon the public.  Your mouth is a Racoon City left in chocolatey shambles.

2 many cherries: 2 much feels

2 many cherries: 2 much feels

M:  This isn’t as thick as some other Cigar City offerings and that almost makes it even worse because at least with a massive heft it could usher away some of the sickening cherry notes.  If you have ever left a cherry Home Run Pie in your backpack you will know these feels.  It isn’t fusel at 15% and feels integrated if not for the completely distracting domestic violence taking place in your sweet zones.  This makes Cherry Rye seem reasonable by contrast and Cherry Rye was already pushing the envelope in trifling levels.

I understand how someone might thing this is passable in small doses, why should that be a valid context? Y THO.

I understand how someone might think this is passable in small doses, why should that be a valid context? Y THO.

D:  While not as completely vile as one of the WACKY barrel aged darklord offerings, it is pretty damn similar in that regard.  I drank this whole thing by myself and watched Samsara, contemplating my own destruction and integration back into the nothingness.  All that would remain of my doughy frame would be immutable red 5 and chains of C6H12o6 pumping into space.  It is really not enjoyable and, perhaps in the new community of stupid shits with FlickR or self aggrandizing through liquid mediums, this may work.  If you gave me 3 ounce of this I might just power through it and not look back but, an entire 750ml feels like a cold punchline executed upon the consumer.  Maybe Mikkeller is just Andy Kaufmanning the fuck out of the beer community and giving high fives back in Denmark, ever contemplating what else the Americans will subject themselves to.  Maybe that.

That feel when you watch the last sip cascade down the liter mug and you know it is over.

That feel when you watch the last sip cascade down the liter mug and you know it is over.

4

Cigar City Amplitude Sold Out in 20 Seconds and My Labias are Bruised

Lol I am a member of Cigar City Catador club and society members had an opportunity to buy a bottle of Amplitude, oh wait, it sold out in 20 seconds. I can press F5 and be denied on Lost Abbey’s website for free, no membership required.

That’s right, a barrel aged imperial dopplebock, that was previously infected then pasteurized, SOLD OUT IN 20 SECONDS.

Cigar City goes:
” AMPLITUDE SALES CANCELLED, This decision was made when our lab found some strains of lactobacillus on the plates swabbed from our brite tank, the vessel used to carbonate the beer shortly before bottling. Lactobacillus is great for our Berliner Weisse and the upcoming Sour Guava Grove, as it aids in souring the beer. In Amplitude, a big rich barrel-aged doppelbock, it’d be a disaster.”

Then they be all like:

“After pasteurizing everything, I retested those same bottles on the same type of media. All 10 showed growth before and none of the 10 showed growth after. We also did a test called hot boxing where I put a few of the bottles in the incubator to accelerate the growth and effects of any spoilage organisms. We did sensory analysis of those bottles and all tasted fine with no signs of spoilage. Based on that, we’re all confident that the beer is clean and cleared for release””

This is the beer that sold out in 20 seconds. I hate beer.

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Cigar City Double Barrel Marshall Zhukov, Beating Your Children After One Barrel Is Not Enough. DOUBLE IT.

Florida used to rustle everyone’s jimmies with cries of homerism and being a hype machine but lately I have not heard a peep out of people getting pissed at small bottle runs or inaccessible wales. Let us go back to 2010 when walez were in full swing and did not trade for offshelf bottles purchased at Binny’s. This is DOUBLE FUCKING BARREL ZHUKOV. They aged it in bourbon AND brandy barrels, so if you are an indecisive prick, you get two barrels. Oh also this was a bottle run of ~219 bottles, so you probably don’t get either barrel. So think about that shit before you open up that CTRL+SHIFT+N window and start stroking it to these pics.

If you are pissed at the lighting and want to get all Sean Van Taggen on me, go get your own bottle and bisect a bag of dicks.

If you are pissed at the lighting and want to get all Sean Van Taggen on me, go get your own bottle and bisect a bag of dicks.

Cigar City Brewing
Florida, United States

Style | ABV
American Double / Imperial Stout | 11.50% ABV

A: Truthfully, this looks pretty shitty. It pours out a bit thinner than Huna in execution and doesn’t leave much in the way of lacing, but that MIGHT BE BECAUSE IT IS AS FLAT AS NATALIE PORTMAN AFTER BIKRAM YOGA. There is zero bubbles, no suds, no foam, no laotian people rubbing me down. No Table Shower, no fun to speak of. This shit is Kikoman’s Finest Hour, and sits there all placid like a Presbytarian on her wedding night. Fucking boring, crack open some BIC pens, boom instant Double Zhukov. Next section.

This is familiar, yet, strangely disquieting.  These sweatpants are coming off.

This is familiar, yet, strangely disquieting. These sweatpants are coming off.

S: This smells dank as balls. There is a huge cherry and bourbon aspect but then that trickster brandy comes in with a sweet molasses meets mallow foam, like when your dick comes just a lil bit out of the hole in your boxers, not making itself completely known, but it is there. There is a sweet roast and char that reminds me of Darkness but the complexity of TWO BARRELS AT THE SAME DAMN TIME

I know I already posted this video. Allocating Fucks to be Given….processing….

ZERO RESULTS FOUND.

T: This tastes fucking amazing and reminds me if Bourbon Huna fucked Apple Brandy Huna, sticky black ink scissoring my timbers. You get chocolate, cocoa, sticky werther’s original and this black cherry finish to it like 4th of July BBQs. The sweetness in the end lingers like licking the brownie batter bowl, your creepy uncle just sits, watching you get your face all up in that stout bowl.

I def recommend this bottle, if you land it 3 years after release, mad props bro

I def recommend this bottle, if you land it 3 years after release, mad props bro

M: This is thick as to be expected from MZ, but it somehow is THINNER, like when Foothill pulls its magic trick and makes Sexual Chocolate thinner after its “barrel aging” for 1 trimester. I like it though, Huna has its own thing going on and this is more of a Foo Fighter to the intense Nirvana residual sugars present in Huna. This is more approachable and takes the sheeting slow, no diggity, you gotta bag it up.

D: This is exceptionally drinkable FOR THE WRONG REASONS. This is delicious yes, but the complete lack of carbonation makes this almost more like a baller ass Cabernet than a world class stout. You have to take bigger gulps to get that fulfillment. No entendre, there’s been enough for one review. I would recommend this certainly, but if you had your balls in a vice grip and had to choose, I would pick Bourbon Huna, but that is a pretty fucking strange scenario for your testicles.

Land a massive wale and complain about it.  Do it for the lulz

Land a massive wale and complain about it. Do it for the lulz

Narrative: The 7th grade dance was going swimmingly, Boyz II men was spinning with luster and the boys and girls were partitioned with natural precision. It seemed like a traditional affair, girls and boys alike rife with insecurity, until Daniel Chambers entered the mediocre gym with the pre-teen swagger only an awkward lack of pubescence could produce. He was overly sweet with a miller’s outpost shirt that boasted a screen printed witticism that would make Voltaire blush. The Tony Rich project comes on and he walks through a group of knock kneed pre-women a solid 6 inches taller than him. It was not inconsequential that with his overriding sweetness, Daniel delivered backhanded insults to each of the already completely insecure girls, imparting a tart finish that was both forgotten immediately but left them wanting more. He deserved all his misfortunes, for he was a product of a botched marriage and wrought his vengeance upon the student body. As his swan song he slammed into a small filipino girl during basket case and was delivered resounding accords.

1

Cigar City Leon Brandy Barrel Aged English Barleywine, The King(s) Or Leon

Time to get down to brass tacks and finally review what many have dubbed as the “King Henry” slayer although others believe that Bloody Mary is the true King Henry slayer, wakkawakkawakka. I was holding out for someone to send this 1200 bottle limited release AND NO ONE SENT ME ONE FOR FREE, but then I landed this bottle on mybeercollectibles.com go check them out. So anyway, an apple brandy barrel aged barleywine? Does it have the temerity and strength to overcome the progeny of Rare? Let’s find out.

Leon spelled backwards is NOEL. Perfect xmas beer.

Cigar City Brewing
Florida, United States
English Barleywine | 13.00% ABV

A: This has a dull reddish mahogany hue to it that doesn’t go a particularly turbid route but maintains a beautiful sheen to it. The sheeting was minimal considering the 13% abv but the carbonation left nice archipelagos. They are tiny apple brandy islands of foam where the indigenous people are wasted non-stop like a Vengaboys concert.

If you take this abroad and don’t share it, at least know how to offend people properly. This beer begs to be shared.

S: This might be the most amazing part of this beer, flat out. This is like if someone burned a Werther’s Original factory to the ground. This boasts a full caramel bouquet with nice sweet roast to it. This also reminds me a bit of a Payday bar but with a prominent brown sugar all up in the mix like some official Creme of Wheat action. The finish of it lacks much alcohol presence and reminds me of Bruery White Chocolate and a macadamia nut cookie. This is pretty decadent, even by my 10 year old palate.

T: This goes a bit sweeter than the roasty balance of the nose and if you have had apple brandy treatments of anything, you know what I am talking about This has a nice brandy aspect at first with a sweet almost cognac caramel aspect to it with the malts pulling full steam with some dark fruits like plums and pluots be grinding on one another like a slow jam. This feels like a hybrid between a nice Belgian Quad and an Old Ale given the sweetness but roasty balance. This is an exceptional beer.

This beer will warm you up more than a baby rhino wearing a blankie.

M: The coating is pretty substantial but doesn’t go balls out like Hunah, which is a good thing for this execution. I wasn’t the hugest fan of the base beer but this, like Hunah, is a completely different beast altogether. The alcohol doesn’t seem to lend heat so much as it lends a stickiness like so many ungrateful Craigslist girlfriends.

D: For 13% and massive sweetness, this is strangely drinkable. I did not find myself wincing at working through a 750 of this. Then again, most beer drinkers are gigantic blubbering labias and will find something to complain about. This will likely be where they voice their shitty timid concerns about how when it warms it is too sweet or how they wanted more chocolate stout notes in their English Barleywine just the way Mama Goose Island likes to make. Wah wah wah, don’t listen to them. Seek this beer out. This is an interesting beast and can go toe to toe with Sucaba and Kuhnhenn with Alpine Great nodding knowingly upon an altar made of bone.

Let the others stumble over themselves to land King Henry, you are a refined gentleman.

Narrative: The Kingdom of Leon held its traditions proudly, despite the constant Moorish interference with their golden heritage. The bowed masses gnashed their teeth in the gold mines, awaiting the coming of a ducal potentate to liberate them to a sweet future. They indulged on holy days and presented sweet gifts in the classic tradition. It was upon these backs that the roasted fields presented the sticky promise of a future holy barrel empire. The citizens of Leon would be challenged again and again with unerring faith, harvesting the sweet fields of malt and grain, enduring the mistreatment of a malignant king with cool determination. Leon would one day overcome. Each dynasty results in Patricide and ultimately a free exchange of golden discourse. This was no different and the Iberian Peninsula teemed with wanting desire, for soon the King should fall.

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Cigar City Apple Brandy Barrel Aged Hunahpu’s, Because Reviewing the Regular and Bourbon Was Not Enough

Well, just short of doing the rum and whiskey variants, I think this should round out the old Huna triumvirate pretty nicely. I am going to save everyone from the shock of their lifetimes: this beer was amazing. I don’t say that because it sits proudly in the top 100 insouciantly uncaring of your petty desires, I say that because it melds all of my favorite aspects of the prior two versions and fills in what minor flaws there were. I opened a growler of this at my house with a bunch of people and even stout haters were enamored with this black beauty. Enough pre-reviewing, let’s get deep up in that review

I have had both the screwtop and swingtop variants, I prefer the janky old medicinal look of the screwtop but the swingtop is more official.

Cigar City Brewing
Florida, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 11.50% ABV

A: Keep true to the meciless Huna form, this beer just coats and strangles the light from every aspect of this beer. The malts are obsidian and darker than Jodie Sweetin’s heart. The mocha lacing is less substantial than the bottled and regular versions, but still clings with a very pretty sort of dirty aspect to it. The glass is literally ruined after you pour this into it, the entire thing just paints it this off khaki color that takes quite a bit to clean, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The south has created another deity worthy of reverence.

S: This has less chili presence than the regular Huna but still has a slight crackle of Cuban zest deep down. What is more present is this deep overiding sweetness and caramel presence that as first comes on like vanilla and marshmellow and goes to a naughty Werther’s Original sort of toffee place. The brandy is unmistakably present like Nana’s breath after a huge bridge tournament win.

T: This is a deliciously decadent Dove chocolate note to usher in the cadre of supporting caste comprised of brown sugar, light chili presence, a slight cinnamon crackle like holiday cookies that transitions into a sweet oak meets booziness that is totally fulfilling, like winning a Spelling Bee against ESL students. Fuck that, they entered the contest, don’t feel bad.

This beer is strange, but welcoming and oddly familiar, in a fantastic way.

M: This might be the most insane aspect of this beer, this seriously is the most viscously aggressive beer that I have ever come across. This stains the shit out of your glass like when Ivan the Terrible murdered 1500 unorthodox Tatar priests to access the Baltic shipping routes. That dark. Just drink this in a plastic cup and throw that shit away unless you want all subsequent beers to be haunted by the ghosts of huna’s past. I seriously don’t know how they did it. It isn’t just residual malts, if you want that trainwreck try Cigar City’s sugar disaster, Warmer Winter Winter Warmer. This is amazing on a whole different level of accolades. Respect.

D: This is strangely drinkable due to the medley of flavors going on. When I go to Denny’s and feel like having a 100% chance of diarrhea, I order the sampler. It has sweet, salty, savory, and such is the case with this beer. You getting bored with that chocolate? Oh here’s some fucking cinnamon, here’s some brandy, here you go, ancho chilis. You are welcome. It is like a god damn RX Bandit’s album up in your mouth hole.

When you focus on the purest elements, the truth is revealed.

Narrative: The cars whizzed by turn 4 with deafening precision and a constant din of squealing rubber and exhaust. The cadre within the ranks of the audience seemed to have one dental insurance plan per square 10, but that didn’t hamper their enjoyment of watching the Go-Karts tear the asphalt relentlessly, lap after lap. “Look at Brayden! SHOW THEM WHAT TIME IT IS BRAY BRAY!” Tonya screamed to her son whose age gap was of questionable legitimacy. The darkness in each participant’s heart fused together in a iniquitous ritual, evil to the core. It was a sport predicated on an abhorrence of all things progressive, repugnant to the environment. The checkered flag waved and the constant swirling of the high octane racers completed the rite of passage, Puzuzu, noted enemy of the dark magistrate, Hunahpu, rose from the center track. This abomination of sickening sweetness, chili dogs, diabetic pontification, and sticky sweet bourbon rose without a single ounce of trepidation. “MYYY MINIONNSSS YOU MUSTTTT, GO SEE EXPENDABLES PART TWOOOO” all present nodded in silent recognition and looked longingly on their Boost Mobile phones. If only they could purchase tickets with them, the will of the cantankerous deity could be done. Alas, the poverty stricken are the last to embrace the seraphic embrace of the iPhone 5. Such is their original sin and perpetual plight.

0

Cigar City Bourbon Barrel Hunahpu’s Stout, Get Swallowed by Stoutstro the Whale

After months of hunting on the open seas, the harpoons finally entered the hide of this elusive beast. So there were something like 200 of these made and the feeding frenzy at the event reached a fever pitch of beer nerds when you had to PICK A LINE. Massive swaps ensued, people were trying to figure out which was the best, and when the neckbeard sweat cleared: A WINRAR WAS THIS. This is a legit top 100 bruiser that runs the yard. Enough pussy footing, let’s get that Hell Yeah Fucking Right HYFR review in today’s sesh:

Grab ye harpoons, t’day we be heeding the cetacean call and slaying Ishmael grade walez.

Cigar City Brewing
Florida, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 11.50% ABV

A: This looks pretty similar to the original Huna but lacked that epic carbonation that made the 2011 so fun. Frothy tan bubbles all up in the mix like a Costa Rican foam party, not present in this one. This pours raven black with a sheer that coats like Paddington Bear’s jacket, deep and thick. The sheeting is like a convict on PCP and shows the power beneath. It’s the liquid form of cyber sex, you aren’t sure what you are in for but it is likely dangerous in some capacity.

This poised beast will blow you away. ZJs for everyone.

S: This has a nice sweet tone at the outset like figs, deep chocolate, the peppers and chilis are muted and the bourbon takes center stage making that cinnamon follow him around holding his pocket. I kinda wanted some coffee but this continental breakfast is serving nothing but bourbon AND YOU WILL LIKE IT.

T: Holy hell, the taste takes that crazy manticor that was Huna and adds another series of heads and flaming tails. You get the chocolate, pulling a red rider wagon full of dark fruits and oak in tow with nice vanilla stickiness for all the kids and then OH SHIT OLD MAN BARRELBOR JUST SAW YOU ON HIS PROPERTY and things turn very bourbon, very quickly. The four roses barrel imparts more of a sweetness, per usual, but it works well given the crazy complexity of the base beer. This is like a Mars Volta solo that just goes on and continues to ruin undergrad educations.

OUT OF NOWHERE: Bourbon Huna blast to your periodic tabledome.

M: The coating is straight up Sherwin Williams and blacks out like an overweight person on Supermarket Sweep. The glass is permanently stained and looks like it was dropped into the Hudson river, filthy and decadent. If you drink this at lunch, just go home from work. You are done for the day and those kids can find their own way home from school.

D: Well, I guess this depends on how gluttonous you are. Can you tank a series of Home Run Pies? Do you sigh when Marie Callendars give you the “small” slice of chocolate mousse pie? This is for you. I had a solid pour and enjoyed it as it warmed but I didn’t draw hearts around its name nad wonder when we would meet again. It was a one night tryst, but you can brag to all your friends how you…ok well…no you can’t brag about shit without some serious ridicule and derision.

I feel bad for the countries that SHOULD be enjoying Russian Imperial Stouts, Florida doesn’t even need big stouts. They need OFF! and government subsidized showers.

Narrative: After several months at sea, even Jericho had lost faith in the elusive ebony whale. It was rumored that the crew of the HMS ISO:FT was taken down in a swift blow once the majestic chocolate mammal burst upon the scene. After months of scanning the horizon with little more than guppies and schools of cuttlefish, he had all but lost hope. Suddenly on the starboard bow, a jstof inky black spew fired into the air, cutting the murky clouds with a frothy cocoa mist. “THAR SHE BE! Grip ye threadbare poles and prepare for a series of REJECTION MY MEN!” The Hunt was on. The beast dove deep, demanding much of the crew, pulling them left and right with their tiny vessel and cellar in tow. Bixby James, a belgian longshoreman with unnerving superstitions jumped down from the flying jib and rubbed tart lychee upon the tip of his blade and watched the coffee shadow underneathe them. “For them the sour inside shall SLAY THE BITTER BELOW!” He cast his acidic spear deep and aimed for the monster’s rare weak point, striking a critical blow. The men sampled the decadent oil from the blowhole with khaki stained teeth, one of the remaining 189 beasts had been laid to rest in solemn reverence.

0

Cigar City Jai Alai, A Game of High Speed Balls and Super Alpha Hops

Here’s something that always seems to poke its hoppy head into beer boxes that I receive as extras. Either this is falling all off of shelves in Florida or someone loves me. I would assume the former. Enough jibber jabber about states with electoral issues, let’s open this hop IED in today’s Hop Locker.

A game of precision, balls, and severe injury, IPA DRINKING.

Cigar City, Jai Alai, IPA, 7.5% abv

A: This beer seemed pretty tame out of the glass, no radiant Marcelous Wallace glow, no Ark of the Covenant face melting hops, just a nice gentle IPA, here to stay a moment and spin some yarns. It is a mild orange with yellowing. Nice carbonation and some haunted house webbing on the glass. Only, no one touches your no no.

Sure, I have seen some amazing IPAs in my day but, my jimmies are in a default state upon seeing and smelling this offering, they arent unrustled, I guess.

S: Strangely, I don’t get a huge acidity, sure there’s some obligatory mild orange zest but mostly it smells sweet and crackery like a warm cornbread. Not par for the course in IPAs at all. Not bad, just like a watered down version of Hop Slam with more honey.

T: This doesn’t have a huge citrus profile to it, it goes a route of middle ground non-offensiveness. It begins with a nice hop bite that retreats like an abused terrier, giving you a bit of pine and grassiness and, that’s about it. The honey notes provide a solid maltiness that washes away quickly.

This beer flexes hard in the club and lets you know that is shit gets cutty, it has your back like Warrior hops.

M: The mouthfeel is crisp and light and lends to the session ability of this beer. It isn’t as filling as a Tim Allen stand up special, but unlike that, you aren’t bloated afterwards. No hop resins set up shop and it is like that tame worker who comes in, does his 9-5 and doesn’t ask any questions.

D: This is where this beer shines. Maybe it just isn’t hot enough in LA but, this beer seems like it would be great to drink while putting some sick flame decals from Pep Boys on my 93 Monte Carlo, you know, Florida shit. I’d love to knock a few of these back and then enter a voting booth, maybe build a home in the way of recurrent storms; we’ve all been there. But in all seriousness, this is a solid IPA, not bad in any respect just not that citrus bomb that I love to rub along my gumline.

It is incredibly familiar, maybe a little too familiers.

Narrative: Roger Bellows had a serious dilemma. Did he abandon his lifelong dream of owning an apiary farm and propose to the girl of his dreams? Or follow his dreams and hope that, amongst those bees he would find true love. “ROGER! I said just pick one, come on!” Kaitlynn called to him down the halogen white aisle. He picked the highest grade honey he could find and shuddered at the agave nectar section, “but how will I explain this to her?” he ruminated, glancing furtively to the bee set in amber on his ring. “I JUST….I LOVE FUCKING BEES!” he cried to her in the frozen foods section. “Ex- excuse me?” she stammered. “Well, not fucking bees, I love, I just love them. I need you to know that.” Kaitlynn rocked heel to toe and furled her brow like a worn button box. “Ok? And, I love you HONEY!” her writhing index finger left something to be wanted of a stinger as her pantomime fell flat. “Oh great, puns, my DREAM IS A PUN TO HER!” “Yeah, I’m all buzzed about, it,” he trailed off looking at the many varieties of Cool Whip. “God, you are such a bitter, forgettable drone, WHY CANT YOU STAND UP FOR YOURSELF!?” His amber bee ring dug into his palm when Kaitlynn cried “ROGER! Three things of honey? Come on!”