Ole Grandpa Rum

Ole Grandpa ordered everyone out of the De Soto and handed Teddy the keys. “Make sure it isn’t in the way of anything. If you must wreck it, wreck it someplace out of the way.” Teddy leaned over to Gerry while everyone walked over to admire an A.P.V. “Hey man, you seem cool. I mean, I’m cool, but you seem cool too. Inside the lab, fucking amazing man, ok inside the lab are these pills. They’re probably white, but y’know tab things. Can you….CAN YOU…grab me some? You’ll know what I want. You know.” Gerry could see that he was completely inebriated at this point and only nodded to finish the awkward moment. The De Soto engine roared while Teddy accelerated away at a mere five miles per hour. “But…what is it all for? Don’t tell me you pour the rum through machine guns or tank cannons or some such nonsense?” Gerry heard as he jogged up to the rest of the group. Jonah was still a bit ruffled at the sight of large men with machine guns, who had finished loading up the vehicle and were piling inside. “Pour the rum through a cannon? Why, what nonsense! No, no, those are for shooting. You see we here at the distillery know that the best way to make rum is the precise method that sailors in the old days produced it. We steal it.” A soldier marched up to Ole Grandpa who was wearing camouflage and a beret. He gave a snappy salute and Ole Grandpa returned it smartly. With that, the A.P.V. fired up and began backing out of the parking lot. “None of these vehicles are made from alkamianamum, they are all real deal Soviet grade stuff.” He said proudly. Gerry spoke up, “Y’know, I’ve always thought your rum tasted a lot like Capt. Smith’s. This explains it, but I never really drank it enough to be sure. I kinda hate rum.” Everyone nodded to this. “I believe one of rum’s most basic properties is that no one actually likes drinking it, but it always ends up happening. To be honest, I never touch the stuff myself. The boys hijack trucks or sometimes even all out assaults on distilleries. They take what they want and then we pour it all into a vat and repackage it.” Even Jonah shrugged in agreement while lighting a cigarette and commenting, “I never drink it either.” The doors to the laboratory beckoned and as the group marched inside Little Chatpers quaintly chimed in, “Hey, I never drink rum either. I think it tastes yucky too!”