Well-meaning I suppose, well intentioned I guess, but the stuff smells like another batch of what we affectionately call, Jacks gasoline. We’re all pretty sure he was born without taste buds or a sense of smell, because when he cooks, or in this case, tries to brew up his own personal batch of bourbon, we think less of drinking it, and more of trying to use it as a possible paint remover alternative.
This is his thirty fourth year at distilling moonshine, making stump hole or any other mythical name for boiling up his special blend of mash. I’ve sampled it now for twenty two years, and in all that time, it’s never gotten better, some years it’s just not totally nasty. But I’ve never, to this day, been able to actually swallow any of it. I think it almost melted one of my fillings a few years back.
The bottles he puts this concoction in are clear, the liquid in the bottles once corked, appears dark brown, almost black and with so much eye appeal we all try to feign any interest in being thirsty, but he knows we imbibe far too often. Were stuck in our own vice, so to speak. He starts pouring us all a round, and somewhere in that bottles liquid past, is the repose of clear translucent apples.
We all take a sip to be polite, and when the creator of this liquid nitrogen is not looking, I spit it out into the snow as quick as I can.
I have to wonder, how anybody in their right mind, would, or could drink that stuff. I wonder Just like when Eve gave Adam the apple, did he quit after one bite, did Eve finish her apple, and in any case what happened to the apple cores because we know Jack uses his apple cores, peelings, seeds and all, for making an apple jack champagne that borders on awful.
We keep trying to tell Jack to just stop, give it a rest, that it’s really a bad thing to do to apples as far as we’re concerned, but this in the end, it just makes him try all the harder.
I asked if he would switch to grapes, nope to expensive, Beth wondered if he ever thought of trying to make some home brew beer instead. Nope, he wants to make the best apple jack around, he says he has to because his name is Jack. After Jack took this year’s attempt at poisoning all of us and left, Kevin suggested we change Jacks first name, to ether. The trout whisperer