Rarest Whiskey in the World

The contestants walked around the park in silence, once again awed by the great lengths Ole Grandpa would go for the sake of authenticity. That, and the lack of any realistic response to the sight of dozens of drunk rednecks making whiskey. Some had fiddles and danced while their mash brewed, others carefully poured the finished whiskey into great steel drums to be carried up to the surface robots. But mostly, they sat around drinking as much whiskey as they could. “This must be why it costs so much, huh? The workers end up drinking most of it.” Gerry said to no one in particular. A bearded old timer overheard him and started laughing, drunkenly knocking over a bubbling brew and splashing Gerry’s leg with the hot mash. “Goddamnit! Ow! What the Hell is wrong with you?!” The music stopped and everyone stared at Gerry. A few men drunkenly swayed still to a soundless beat but most seemed dumbfounded at the outburst. Finally, Ole Grandpa broke the silence with a cough and said, “Why…Gerry, they are drunk. Like we all are. Like you are as well, I presume? You are drunk, aren’t you?” More stares, a few of the rednecks were beginning to circle around him. A few had dangerous leers in their eyes. “Oh yeah, I mean sure. I’m wasted as can be. Yes sir…ah…” Gerry was becoming nervous as more people entered the circle around him. Jonah had broken off his arm and was melting into the crowd. Even in her drunk state, she could see that her newfound interest had gotten itself into trouble. “But…I could certainly use some of that fine whiskey?” Gerry ventured. Grins broke out and cheers were let loose. A few rednecks slapped him on the back a little too hard and handed over a jug. One even leaned in and whispered, “S’alright stranger. S’alright. Why sometimes even I forget to keep alcohol around when I’m walking and such. Here, have a sup!” Gerry took a big swig for everyone to see and swallowed it all down. It tasted great and yet even as the burning sensation settled in his stomach he could tell it was doing little to diminish his brain activity. As Ole Grandpa resumed their walk in the park, it was discovered that Jonah had wandered over to a particularly large still where one ancient lone worker resided. “Ah yes, I suppose it was inevitable. Jonah, my dear, what you are looking at is the still where we make the rarest whiskey in the world!”