Gumshoe's Smoldering Corked Skunked Pyment Short

It was another dark and lonely night, on the streets of Mead City. A canary singing in every clip-joint. Another snitch is dropping a dime on his off-the-track boss to avoid a trip to the clubhouse. Just another night in Mead City. Me? I was in my office. I was minding my own business. I was burning the candle at both ends. Just then, this tall drink of mead darkened my door. She was a bottle. A bottle to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window. Some wise-head had left it there before he saw fit to dust out. I was thirsty. Real thirsty. So thirsty I could smell it. I could see past the Green complexion, and Cork it was wearing, this Stubby had a Sparks backround. I read the label. I could see this Pyment was a dish a right gee would be dizzy for. I read a little further. It said it had an alcohol content of 9.86%. Not bad for a looker. I opened it to tip a few. I've put down a few in my day, enough to be out on the roof, but this was somethin' else. It smelled like Grape, Red Wine, Honey, and it tasted like Brandy, Grape, Red Wine, Honey. The hombre that left this bottle must have been hitting on all eight. It was a clean sneak. There was more to this caper than I’d bargained for.

Creator

Makers Mead

Owner

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Collection

Makers Mead Bottle