Why look at what I have here: one fine jar of moonshine I took from a gang called The Methheds (stay in school kids!) back when I was running protection for a local elected official called The Duke a few years back in a little place outside Atlanta, named Hazard since before The War.
Anyway, it’s not much but it’ll get you pretty far down the road. You’ll have to find your own cups.
Oh, and try not to spill any on the ground, it has a tendency to cause plant life to wither.
