By Jonathan McNamara
I’ve been betrayed.
Past experience and a few bumper stickers have lead me to believe that beer is liquid proof that the gods want us to be happy. Oh, how I have been living in naivety!
I took a chance on a beer labeled with a chili pepper covered in what appears to be magma but could just as easily be the blood of innocent beer drinkers who met their end when they reached for this slop hoping for something refreshing and tasty.
I popped the cap off of the 12 ounce bottle and walked a few feet away to throw it away when I detected a hissing sound. Did I leave the water on? Has my stereo shorted out? No. It was the beer. It was warning me like a rattlesnake moments before it strikes.
Summoning what was left of my courage, I walked back over to the bottle, grasped it in my hand and took a little sniff of what I was about to ingest. As my nostrils burned with noxious fumes, I knew I was in trouble.
This week’s brew: Cave Creek Chili Beer. Cave Creek describes their chili beer as “A premium lager beer with a chili pepper added.” Sure enough, there is a serrano pepper inside every bottle of what otherwise appears to be a normal bottle of beer. What Cave Creek neglects to inform us of is the effect this pointy, green bastard has on the bottle’s other contents.
Tastes: Vile. If you’ve been bad and feel that you deserve the punishment that is knowing how terrible this drink tastes, I recommend shooting mace directly into your mouth. Sure, it’ll sting a bit, but that’s not half as bad as knowing that there is a beer out there that hates you.
This beer is hot to the point of rankness. There is virtually no beer flavor to be detected with your taste buds (in the brief moments they have between tasting this beer and melting off your tongue as though they’ve been hit with an atomic bomb) because it has been completely polluted by the pepper placed in the bottle.
I had mine: on an otherwise peaceful Wednesday night. I’d put in a good day’s work and was looking forward to seeing a concert when I thought I’d relax with a beer. Now I know I’ll never experience that sense of peace again as long as this horrid substance remains in existence.
Goes with: Napalm. Actually, I take that back. This beer may very well be Napalm.
Verdict: I’d rather drink fermented bath water and call it beer than take another swig of this swill.
The label would have you believe this “beer” is brewed in Cave Creek Arizona. I say that’s a front. If it’s possible to brew a draught this infused with evil, it is surely only possible using the black, ancient fermenting tanks of Satan’s own brewery. Avoid this beer at all costs. Your very soul may be at stake.
