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Perennial Barrel Aged Sump Coffee Stout, Straight Double Yuban on the Canadian Mist Tip

Even since that god damn Barrel Aged Abraxas dropped, people have been losing their shit over this brewery. They make some genuinely awesome beers and their berliners are too legit for any form of quitting. However, like anything else, the hype sometimes outpaces the product and people were stumbling over themselves to nab anything, it was like Sub Pop in the early 90’s putting out all these janky products and people were still buying the grunge shit. Anyway, here’s an overhyped coffee stout that some people have been getting creamer in their jeans over, let’s brew this brah:

The label is dark and metal, the beer is straight Nescafe RIS

The label is dark and metal, the beer is straight Nescafe RIS

Perennial Artisan Ales
Missouri, United States
American Double / Imperial Stout | 10.50% ABV

A: This pours out not unlike some black coffee with a deep slickness to it, nice khaki head on it that immediately peaces the fuck out. The coating is pretty lackluster and it looks like old Czar Jack in the wateriness department. It turns into a Vente drip almost instantly and chins are rested upon fists forthright.

That's pretty much what happened to me.

That’s pretty much what happened to me.

S: This has a huge acidic waft to it of gritty coffee beans the produces a harsh roast with an acrimonious finish. This is not like BCBCS where you are like “ah Tortuga, yeah lime kaffir lime, nice acidity” not like that at all, this just nose fucks you like you used way too much Seattle’s best in a drip batch. If you are stoked for some barrel treatment, keep moving because this has that BA Sexual Chocolate treatment, namely, no barrel waft at all. If you grasp at straws and let this warm up hoping for some vanilla, oak, or something redeeming: be prepared to smell barista musk and more gritty spent grounds.

T: This is coffee forward backward and undercarriaged. There really is nothing else but a huge roasty coffee haymaker that puts you on your ass and leaves you licking the drip brew off your teeth wondering about the chocolate malts, maybe a bit of complexity from the barrel? Too bad, you get cold coffee that gets you pretty dreezed fairly easily. It’s like you keep thinking Jenelle Evans will improve, but its the same one note offputting character that you have come to grimace at.

Thought I was about to be on some coffee radio Rahim shit, it was like Amy Grant small batch brew.

Thought I was about to be on some coffee radio Rahim shit, it was like Amy Grant small batch brew.

M: This is incredibly thin not unlike Eclipse, but wholly lacking in the barrel complexity. At least when you drink thin ass Eclipse you can nod and go “alright, nice mallow, nice vanilla and oak” but here you just shake your head looking into your tepid black coffee and see your fat double chins staring back up at you, wondering if you can ever get partial custody of your unappreciative children. The acidity just dries the gumline and sits on your teeth like a mocha frap poured into Stone IRS. You know how Kopi Speedway or Bourbon County coffee presents a substantial coffee profile that lingers buttressed by the malts underneath? Well this is like coffee first, stout second, a distant last place in this two person relay.

D: If you absolutely love South American coffees and highly acidic brews, and generally dislike stouts, you will anomalously love this coffee stout. I drank about 10 oz of this after committing it to the plumbing vortex of trader’s lament. It would be unfair to say that regular Ryan Bros. Speedway Stout is better than this, since personal tastes may vary, but please trade cautiously for this old roustabout. Well shoot, there goes my donation box from Perennial, go blackout and watch an iCarly marathon and start making some good life decisions.

"You probably just don't like coffee or stouts" solid arguments coming from Twitter on the reg.

“You probably just don’t like coffee or stouts” solid arguments coming from Twitter on the reg.

Narrative: Dwayne Wade just did not know what to do with himself in the post-season. He kicked the opulent white tiger rug in his gaudy Miami mansion and looked out his 18 foot floor to ceiling windows over the ocean villas. “Sometimes I feel like, maybe balling outrageous is only the tip of how ill D-Wade can bring it,” he thought to himself. He walked across the imported marble foyer and remembered a smoking hot Suicide Girl barista that he used to bone and nodded to himself, he would be the world’s most ballerest barista. Problem was, D-wade was too fucking big to fit in standard barista operations. His brash coordination was not the same employed in the brewing of small roast batches. Thrice he pounded the espresso machine and broke the handle while frothing the fuck out of some milk. He was skilled in many things, but he would ruin the fuck out of your morning cup of joe. Just before he was fired from “Grounded Buzz!” coffeeshop, Lebron James entered and purposely ordered a depth charge red eye, served as a press with a 2 min shot. D-wade had never faced a coffee dilemma like this since his period of prestigious academia at Marquette University. LeBron gave him a hulking thumbs up as he cast the green apron into the coffee station and slapped a female co-worker on her ass, spilling a substantial amount of Colombian fresh roast on the floor. Ballerest fucking barista ever, shittiest coffee ever.

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Olde Hickory Imperial Stout, NOW MADE WITH 50% MORE HICKORY!

So no secret here, Event Horizon was amazing. Olde Rabbits Foot was also sublime. BUT, what about this beer? Is this the base beer for Event Horizon? No. Does it carry the proud barrel aged lineage? No. Does it still have the ridiculous wax that is impossible to remove? Yes. Ok, let’s get it.

Removing that wax burned about 431 calories, so I should break almost even on this beast.

Olde Hickory Imperial Stout, 10.2% abv

A: This is a strangely thin imperial stout that has some amber and deep mahogany tones at the edges. I am not disappointed, I just expected more given the ornate wax and Victorian seal. Which, by the way, makes these bottles a coronation ceremony, or a bris. Depending on how adept you are. It has almost no lacing and is underwhelming on the carbonation.

This is how I envision North Carolina breweries spend their used mash. Then wrangle chickens around the lauter tun.

S: There is a ton of sweet notes and a cloying walnut that lingers around like a Boo in Super Mario 3. You try to confront the smell discretely and it covers itself in shame with coffee and chocolate notes.

T: For all the pageantry and wax bottles, this is a solid, normal imperial stout. It isn’t bad by any means but the outset is very sweet and nutty. The light boozy notes don’t resound, they hang out, admiring the architecture and solid construction of my palate, not really bothering anyone. A coffee dryness finally bounces them out, but elects to remain on the clock until the next sip. It is a cascading enterprise of people milking the clock, in this case, my mouth hole.

Time for maximum IMPERIAL STOUT OVERDRIVE.

M: It is pretty thin and splashy splashy for the high abv. I guess I don’t really need this walnut and peanut puree taste setting up shop but I was able to power through this like a diligent Alabama common law husband. You know what I am talking about. Part of the problem is I received this beer and Event Horizon at the same time. It’s like being asked to Sadies just a day prior by a slovenly hook toothed scallywag, when you are dreaming of sweet chocolate that could have been. This turned racial and dental very quickly.

D: This is very drinkable, in the respect that I am looking longingly to find another beer because these tastes aren’t a weekend friend taste, they are more of a coffee date taste. I appreciate this in small pours and wish that I brought this to a tasting but, alas, took this all to my dome piece. I wouldn’t discourage anyone from picking this up but, at the same time, they could presumably save time and money by pursuing other avenues.

Drink imperial stouts for a living? OUTSTANDING IDEA CHAP!

Narrative: “The quarterly file reviews? You KNOW I was on those, hey, go Rams!” Chance Masterson wryly smiled after darting around the corner of a cubicle. He pressed his back against the cool repose of a Fanta vending machine. “How long can I do this before they realize that I got kicked out of high school sophmore year for stowing weed in a Tool CD case?” “HEY CHANCE! You’re killing the office pool, you’re the GOLDEN BOY, can’t wait to see your powerpoint presentation next Tuesday, KILLING IT!” Tyler Derpings commented in passing. His time had faded, and now the ultimate charlatan had taken his place. “It’s not my fault really, my perfectly aligned bicuspids, my attention to minutia, natural effervescense. They practically wanted to hire a fraud.” He began to sweat along the collar of his counterfeit Ben Sherman suit. The forthcoming power point presentation was a quarterly analysis of all debentures and IRAs within the cost/benefit matrix. Perhaps lying about being both a CFA and MBA was not the best idea on his resume but, “hey, in a recession, you gotta shoot for the moon and if you hang out with the stars, then, people are still gonna hate on you” Chance approximated while he listened to the tick of an AC compressor begin to cool off some authentic Fanta.

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Dark Horse Brewing Company, Bourbon Barrel Plead the 5th, I CHOOSE NOT TO EXERCISE THAT RIGHT IN LIGHT OF TASTING THIS BEER

Ok so a quick backstory to my tawdry affair with this (spoiler alert) completely amazing stout. I originally traded and tried to land one of the 50 some bottles from the initial release and failed horribly. Later, I traded and landed an entire 4 pack of these bottles and kept swearing to myself that I needed to review this top 100 stout. The problem was, each time after I drank this 15% abv bottle, I just became a sleep jeep and couldn’t be bothered to record my flawed impressions. This bottle is from my buddy, Bear, so here’s a final bite at the apple, let’s see if I can actually complete this one.

The difference between regular Plead the 5th and BBpt5 is like Urkel vs Stefan.

Dark Horse Brewing Company, Plead the 5th Bourbon Barrel Aged, 15% abv

THIS IS ONE OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE STOUTS SO TODAY IS A DOUBLE MEME DAY

Pop this open before a sexy date, your teeth will look like this.

A: Well all is quiet on this eastern front. Theres a fantastic cosmos of bubbles that forms on the surface and lets you know that you are dealing with a complex, vengeful beer that operates under its own moral code. Just look up there, the chocolate and bourbon practically spontaneously combust and set the surface on fire with rage. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The existence of this beer is akin to the "Divine Watchmaker" argument. Mere mortals could not assemble something this amazing without supernatural intervention.

S: Holy hell this beer smells amazing. There’s a deep chocolate frosting aspect, with a faint milkiness on the backend like 85% cacao mixed with creme, some butterscotch and molasses toffee, finally a hot bourbon note closed the gates and declares the war a victory. A victory indeed. Every time that I open a bottle of this I remember anew how amazing it is. It is thoroughly fantastic on the nose, guess what (spoiler alert) the taste is amazing too-

The first time I tried this stout and then read the abv, my face was all like-

T: Initially there’s a nice coffee dryness like hopping into the dry leather saddle with Juan Valdez and his trusty burro. He hands you some cacao nibs to chew on and your ruminate over the New Mexico landscape and wonder how you had strayed so far from South America, he took another swig of Elijah Craig bourbon and you realize that he is less a coffee horticulurist and more a nomadic vagrant. The chocolate and coffee give this finish similar to a mocha that has been spiked with some Pappy Van Winkle. I always toss around the “top 5” and “lifetime achievement” awards with capricious infidelity, but seriously, this beer is amazing.

Protip: you are not the bird in this scenario after drinking this beer

M: The mouthfeel doesn’t take up more space than is needed in the overhead compartment, just pure ass beatings delivered with alarming efficiency. This imparts a huge dirty bomb of swift chocolate and bourbon and then is gone before you even know what organization imparted this efficient terrorism. All you know is that, from the destruction comes order, and the San Francisco earthquake may have ruined everyone’s shit, but it was rebuilt stronger and more solid in constitution as a result. TL;DR drink this beer to be stronger, funnier, and more impressive with the ladies [FN1 citation needed]

After I finished my first 12oz bottle and realized that I was likely 2x the legal DUI limit, I was like-

D: This is exceptionally drinkable, that is all there is to it, and god damn is it scary as a result. At least they had the sense to ratchet it back to a 12oz serving. It is strange, like how in Trainspotting you see everyone getting destroyed by heroin but they just want more, that’s this beer. You just want more of it and it puts your ass to bed like a swift choke hold. Great now I have to try and put together a coherent, clever narrative to sum up the joie de vivre of this beer after punishing myself with that crazy abv.

How to deal with the butthurt that comes with drinking your final bottle of BBpt5, film at 11.

Narrative: Licorice Miter was an ebony beauty, a beauty full of a murderous rage. Generations of powerful equine lineage had developed the fastest, yet the most rage filled horse that man had ever seen. To enrage the pituitary gland, its owner would get chocolate wasted and come taunt the horse with re-runs of Step by Step. The mere smell of a Mint Julep was sufficient to send the horse into a rage. It was deep, dark, and powerfully aware of the torque that it imparted into the loose soil. Miter never lost a single race and never allowed a single penance for the transgressions suffered at the hands of others. Through its own rueful disposition, it learned to harness the rage of the horse condition into an awareness of the future and the futility of the present. The taunting and whipping of the tiny pilot amused Licorice in a manner that seemed fitting for such a self-aware horse, the darkest horse, harboring the deepest rage, accomplishing the greatest feats.

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Oscar Blues Ten Fidy, for Those Times When just Ten Will Not Do

So amongst that camp that doesn’t seek out crazy rare releases or attend long lines and crazy beer debuts, this is usually mentioned as their whipping boy and constantly brought to battle against the high level Materia from hardcore stout mages. Ultimately, it isn’t a fair fight, but let’s see how this non-BA big boy holds his weight.

Lock Ness Monstah want abotu TEEEEEEIIIN FIDDYYYY.

Oscar Blues Ten Fidy 10.5% abv Imperial Stout

This comes in a can, not sure if that jazzes you up. To finally address the issue, YES, you can age this in a can, for fucks sake can we not have any more threads about this? Fine. Let’s move on.

A: This has a pretty viscous appearance to it with nice coating and sticky mahogany carbonation. However, contrary to what most people think, this is not the most viscous used motor oilesque beer that I have ever seen. Rare, Parabola, Abyss, and particularly Hunapuhs are all thicker and exhibit better coating. That is not to say this beer isn’t as black as Satan’s magic, it is. It has tiny bubbles and isolated dots of lacing.

I dont want to get all 1% on everyone but this is widely available, solid, and enjoyable, but nothing too amazing. It majored in Sociology.

S: There is a bit of coffee and some black licorice. You can smell the roasted malts and a sort of burnt turbinado sugar. The bouquet is a bit flat and unremarkable, pretty standard for the genre and style.

T: It has a huge bitter chocolate sweetness at the outset that subsides into deep chocolate malts and finishes with a drying effect. This is a very solid offering especially for the non-barrel aged crowd that can be seen as so pedestrian. Everyone just shaking their heads, “tisking” to their heart’s desire, knowing that a baller version exists out there.

This beer is good but it is only good, I might kill a kitten to get some barrel aging up in this piece.

M: The mouth feel has a great stickiness that lingers for about 25 seconds after you swallow it. The mouthfeel is thick but not oppressively so. For the huge gravity and alcohol of this beer, it doesn’t come off as overly filling. I enjoy the interplay of sweet and very bitter elements.

D: Strangely, this is a very delicious and drinkable stout, despite its shortcomings in the aroma and taste aspects. This is not a session beer, but the cans make it very versatile and I can finally take a huge thick stout to the beach. All of my dreams finally come true, my tossing a Frisbee around care free, swishing in the tide with stained khaki teeth.

Oh, well I just opened an Imperial Stout, please, have a seat.

Narrative: It was a one stoplight town in rural Alabama, but it held a simple regal poise. Michael Davidson operated a simple confectionary bake shop with his beautiful wife. Also, the town dentist had intercourse with her just months before Michael met her. He often toiled with the idea of driving to North Haversberg to have his teeth cleaned, but that was clear 90 miles away and they didn’t accept his insurance. Each visit was a toil of patience and self-discipline for Michael, he flipped through the Highlights magazine hurriedly, nervously awaiting Jeffrey Nogales, DDS. The coy way Mr. Nogales removed his latex gloves couldn’t help but augur that hate deep in Michael’s heart to imagine the same latex condom, cast away from his life partner. “So, I see we have some enamel erosion here, TOO MANY SWEETS FROM YOUR SWEET EH MICH-” Michael bit down hard and clenched his bicuspids and stared Dr. Nogales in his eyes and knowingly nodded with a black hateful rage, casting his dental care away for a spiteful pride. Michael spit the tip of Dr. Nogales’s index finger into the rinse bowl and smiled a crimson smile and signed the COBRA paperwork accordingly.

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Barrel Aged Blackout Stout, Great Lakes Brewery, If Anyone Needs to Blackout, It is Ohio.

Guess what, knock knock, who’s there? Another top 100 beer. No punchlines here, just sick brews brah. 12 days of Christmas are delivering so hard.

Ohio is bringing their A game with this one, sending over something besides FIDM students for a change.

Barrel Aged Blackout Stout, Great Lakes Brewery, Imperial Stout, 9.5% abv

A: This is on the mid-range in absolute Satanic murkiness. It would place somewhere admirably amongst the ranks of Beezlebub in darkness, but not as pure black as Abyss or Black Tuesday. A bit of mahogany shines through at the edges. The carbonation is a bit disappointing, with tiny bubbles that escape quickly. There is very little lacing as well. Ho hum.

Dont like this beer? Well first off...

S: This beer smells like toffee, raisins, burnt vanilla, and bourbon. There’s chocolate in there as well but it feels like an overpower quad given the complexity of the dark fruits, AND THAT’S PRETTY OKAY!

T: The tone of the beer in my mouth is like ringing a perfect major chord of chocolate, raisin, oak, and bourbon in pure harmony. It isn’t overpowering it just resounds with a pure deep sustain that is very pleasurable. This is strange in the world of high octane stouts in that it doesn’t try to go balls to the wall with flavor it just hits an amazing balance and each flavor works in harmony. I wasn’t expecting much from the smell and appearance but the taste is incredible.

Shockingly good. I will be on the lookout for this little gem.

M: If the taste didn’t knock it out of the park, this prickly tiny carbonation makes this beer fantastic on the palate with just enough coating to remain but not enough to both you. I can see how some people wouldn’t “get” this stout but the interplay of the elements is just great. This dark horse really impresses and delivers a subtle performance. The John Malcovich of the Barrel Aged stout world, indeed.

D: The lack of aggressive carbonation and the mellow bourbon and dark fruits make this beer incredibly drinkable and pairable with plenty of options. I don’t think it is universal enough to win over the Delta Gammas of the world, but it is pretty solid when it comes to anyone who has an inkling for the darker side. I feel that if more people tried this beer, it would gain a stronger notoriety but the small batches have this beer being judged by extremely critical parties and it receives a lesser reception as a result.

Similar to other stouts, but with a strangely unique feel to it. Nicely done, crazy, but accomplished.

Narrative: “Steve? Steve, I cant OW!” Jessie fumbled looking for the flashlight in the darkness. “Steve, do we have any candles? Are you there?” Steve was there. A solitary ember from an Argentinian cigar glowed not unlike Daisy’s dock in the darkness. “I am here. Now tell me, who was it, in this household of two that forgot to pay the power bill?” Jessie stopped fumbling for matches and flashlights and stared intently upon the glowing cigar. “You know damn well it was me Steve, that’s not the time for this.” “OH REALLY? Is it the time to make a sweet currant pie? Perhaps we can eat all these figs and 85% dark chocolate? IS THAT WHAT TIME IT IS?!” Jessie dropped to her knees in the darkness and unknowingly crushed a rare Timewalk Magic: the Gathering card. “YOU MONSTER! You know about my condition, I just love, dark fruits so much, now look at us, alone, in the da- myenm. The dark, nom, mmyean there’s nothing we can horm-” “ARE YOU EATING PLUMS AT A TIME LIKE THIS!?” She wailed a sticked pit fruited wail that would be at home in a Tennessee Williams play “IT’S THE ONLY FRUIT I HAVE ANYMORE!” End scene.

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Péché Mortel (Imperial Stout Au Cafe), Stout Imperialism at Its Finest

Alright time for some good old fashioned stout abuse, another top 100 beer, and more ways to write “this has a coffee taste” in fun and inventive ways.

Peche Mortel, Total Immortel.

Peche mortel, Brassiere, Imperial Stout 9.5% abv

A: The appearance has deep dark hues with no transparency, just a hateful oily darkness that abuses like a NASCAR loving husband. However, the coating relents a bit and there’s frothy mocha lacing that adheres to the glass longingly. Give up lacing, it is time to move on.

Satanic Cups of Coffee

S: There is a huge coffee aroma and burnt smoky notes preside with a bit of chocolate; it is clear that coffee is the main event here, and additional complexity is overwhelmed in this discussion. Not a word in from sweetness, edgewise or otherwise.

T: The nice bit of cocoa on the front is quickly chloroformed and dragged away by the coffee censors. There is a huge dryness from the hops and coffee overpower the sweet notes. This beer could use a bit more maltiness but it helps to keep the crispness of the coffee forward. I guess if you had a kick ass office, a negligent boss, or a drunk supervisor, this could pass as a morning beverage. DONT FORGET TO READ THE OSHA POSTERS.

This beer is a little too sweet, makes me question its intentions.

M: Again, the coffee and roasted notes just overwhelm and it makes it a bit of a one trick pony. Sadly you want more complexity, but what is there, is done fairly well, like a Gallagher comedy show. Except less racist.

D: Sadly, there’s just too much drying and acidity from the coffee notes to make this any form of a session beer. It has its place for three months of the year as a classy respite, but beyond that, it’s tough to really give it a direct nod of approval. This can be the ski lodge wench with fair skin that burns easily. The pale barista that serves you on a daily basis, provided the day is blustery and depressing as a gulag. That kind of barista.

It's like a childhood pleasure with a strange twist.

Narrative: She is wearing the green apron with the six pieces of flair again, it must be Thursday. Don’t look, damnit, you always look at her directly in the eyes before you are even to the register, idiot. Just examine the unhealthy, overpriced baked goods. Nice, now she’s not on to your schemes. Don’t order the same thing like you always do idiot. Naked Juice? No, she will think you are a pervert. Right, strike up a conversation about that captain entendre. Could you have put on a nicer shirt to go out to a café? You know she only comes home from school for winter session and this is the only time you have to see her each year. This year Reggie, this is your season, you will woo “What can I get you?” oh, think think, stack adjectives, describe something, she’s looking! “A frap, drip, uh vanilla soy…” “Latte?” “Yeah. That’s chill” “You want it chilled?” “No, I meant uh like, the adjective phrase, I mean, hot I want a hot latte.” Well, could that have gone any worse you idiot? “Adjective phrase?” why not just go slam your dick in a car door. Her breath smelled of redolent fresh coffee grounds and her eyes sparkled a deep mocha. Now it is all ruined. That is, until next winter session, when she returns, for your grasp. “What size?” “Oh uh, grasp, I mean, holdable, uh Vent…venti” Nevermind, you wont be grasping anything but coffee you needledick.

0

Goose Island Bourbon County Stout, I Could Fight Infinite Geese

Sickest Beer Picture of the Year. Ansel Adams all up in this bitch.

Happy Thanksgiving you Ingrates, Here’s an AMAZING stout review for you to be all thankful for.

Bourbon County Stout, Goose Island, 13% abv, Imperial Stout

A: The bottle pours a slick deep black with a light khaki head, The lacing is light but the liquid grips and obfuscates the sides of the glass. No light penetrates this darkness, not even at the edges. Just like those early dates, not even at the edges. Feelup jokes, we are doing them now.

S: It smells like a cherry cordial melted into a spiteful sludge. There are notes of dates, currants, licorice, and dark chocolate. There is an earthy oak to it too that makes this 12oz bottle pack a haymaker. Which is by no means a sleight to hay makers, you maintain an important profession and I doff my alfalfa webbed cap to you. Amish.

When I poured it, my face was all like this. Bourbon eyed.

T: The taste is surprisingly straight forward, the fruits are absent from the taste but the coffee and chocolate notes make a big impression. There is very little hoppy dryness, just a full, welcoming sweetness that is followed by mellowed by a big coffee body that has a slight heat that would benefit from some aging, but that is the case with most people obsessed with chocolate. Or wait, the opposite, people who eat to much chocolate need to get a time machine and, ah fuck it.

M: This doesn’t have a huge Abyssesque body to it. I don’t chew on the malts for hours and ruminate on it. Given the impressive ABV, it gets in, imparts a huge flavor and the finish is pretty standard. I am sure you would be able to smell this a mile away, but the taste doesn’t linger too long, which is a good aspect since the initial taste is where it is at with this beer. It’s tough to underscore how dangerous this beer is. Uninstall all your iphone apps before drinking this shit, oh whats that? Just bought Too $hort’s full discography on ebay? Too bad.

I would try and talk shit on this amazing beer but, it would be the gentle touch of soft trolling. Let's just be real.

D: As far as imperial stouts go, this is excellent. For something this huge with a staggering presence, I think I could actually go beyond the 12oz and request a bomber to myself. The weather will likely be the deciding factor for this beer as most situations outside will not be equal opportunity employers for stouts in general but the sweetness and light finish to this stout puts it in a nice position to argue its case for outdoor activities. Michelob Ultra nervously eyes its Canondale bicycle.

Narrative: “TELL US WHERE YOU HID THE BODY!” Sargeant Myers slammed his fist down on the cast aluminum table shaking Raven Moonclaw’s glass of water. “The body, my dear sargeant, is a part of what Aristoteleans call ‘the Aether’ and as a skilled ilusionist, I can never reveal my secrets.” He produced from thin air a Capri slim and ignited it spontaneously, despite being searched top to bottom upon booking. “You see my dear corporal, the line between menace and altruist is murkily unclear” with a swift slight of hand he transformed his Capri cigarette into an ebony gecko. “WHAT THE-” Sargeant Myers staggered back wiping his brow. “The problem with ethics and illusionists is the code of secrecy, for how can an objective ethical code exists without parameters of repentance or accountability my good enforcer?” The handcuffs clicked and shattered into sixlet candies onto the floor. “I myself do not detest the wicked, but merely embrace the sweet for the fleeting moments I am-” a black clod of smoke appeared and the final resonating words filled the interrogation room: “BEHOLDEN.”