A Whirlwind of Brewing, a Firestorm of Beer

Hey, beer fans; Max here. You know, besides gasoline and (I suppose) my own blood, there’s only one fluid I really can’t live without. That’s Dystopia Dark Lager. Nothing obliterates the psychic pain of horrific memories like ten or eleven Dystopias. And the flavor? Well, let’s not ruin a perfectly civil conversation by talking about that.

It’s a harsh world out there. We’ve all seen things we’d like to forget. In my case, multiple incidents of savage cruelty. In your case, maybe Waterworld. Dystopia rinses it all right out of your brain, quick as you can choke the stuff down! Take it from me: Once you’ve conditioned yourself to swallow a mouthful of Dystopia without involuntarily gagging, you’ll never drink another beer.

Maybe literally, since a mouthful of some of the bad batches exceeds the lethal dose.

Wear this shirt: to work at the pig-feces power plant. It’s brown, so the smears won’t show! They’ll stink, sure, but they won’t show.

Don’t wear this shirt: without leathers, unless you want road rash.

This shirt tells the world: “Given the choice between a frosty mug of Dystopia or sawing through my own ankle, I always take…

“Well, hang on, how big a mug are we talking about?”

We call this color: Bartertown Brown

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