Holy shit. Where do I start? The base Imperial Stout. “Troyalty”. The hand written brewer and bottle number. But the wax dip cinches it for me. Fucking hilar. I can see the people now, driving up from the city waiting two-three hours in line for this one. Insta-whale.
The only thing that would make me laugh harder would be if Olde Saratoga did a sour beer. Oh wait.