Ode to Running Water and Hepatocytes

Sparks Malt Liquour Beverage
The Steel Brewing Co.
Milwaukee, WI


Attention Mr. Sparks and associated administrative minions,

Recently I had occasion to run across your “premium malt beverage” in the aisles of my local liquor store. I was entrusted with the grave task of purchasing alcohol for a annual family reunion. Relatives in various stages of cirrhosis convened from all over the state to camp, catch up and challenge hardened arteries to do their worst.

Purchasing the liquor for this sacred event was no light task; I took the responsibility seriously. Given the unfortunate events that transpired last year with Jim Beam’s Black Cherry Whiskey, Uncle Greg and the errant cow, I was in search of a stimulating malt beverage that would soothe family tensions, stimulate adrenaline and satisfy a pedestrian palate.

The resplendent packing caught my eye and I lingered there in the florescent aisles, my eyes caressing the sleek silver packaging, as I eagerly absorbed your company’s promises that I would finally “show the night who’s boss” and “Get in!” Did this beverage finally hold the sweet promise of beating my erstwhile uncles at beer pong? Would I finally have the energy to endure a vigorous game of horseshoes after eating cholesterol laden tidbits and lounging in my camp chair (beer cooler in arm rest) all day?

Again, the sweet promise, nay claim of your premium malt beverage “show the night who’s boss” caught my eye. The decision was made. Here was my diuretic nirvana- caffeine and malt liquor in one recyclable can! Emboldened, I purchased several cases and merrily packed the truck with the booze, the tent, and sundry junk food.

To strike directly to the heart of my litigious rage, miles were driven, camp was made, and cans of Sparks were rapidly consumed, comforted by the knowledge that soon, I would finally “be in” and “Show the night who’s boss.”

Sir, I spent the rest of the afternoon, evening, and entire night face down in an inner tube shaped like a rubber duckie while the rest of the family roasted marshmallows over my comatose ass. I am told that I remained in this position for the remainder of the weekend. Alas, I have no memory of events subsequent to popping the top on a can of “Sparks Lemon Stinger”, although the Facebook photos posted do provide an overwhelming sense of shame and regret, without reconstituting any actual memories. I am highly aggrieved that not just the night, but the afternoon as well, were not shown “who’s boss.”

Be advised that this constitutes a breach of contract. I am requesting a full refund of my wasted funds(including sales tax), postage, and compensation for my lost time, pain and suffering. J

Yours in outrage,
A Concerned Consumer