Grab your elixir, there’s trouble a brewin’…
The ol’ gunslinger ambled into the cowpoke town just around dusk. The shopkeeps and lawmen eyed this stranger suspiciously. The grizzled man looked like trouble. Tumbleweeds blew by in his wake and the brothel ladies boarded there windows out of fear. The Stranger pushed his way into Patty’s Saloon and took a seat at the bar. The barkeep nervously wiped down the counter and asked, “What’ll it be?”
What The Stranger desired was a strong cup a Joe. The keep yelled towards the back room and soon coffee abound. The Stranger was pleased and pulled a curious bottle from his inside coat pocket. It was a Craft Elixir and he poured it in his libation with reckless aband.
The Sheriff had walked in at this point and asked The Stranger his purpose. “Just heard y’all had good drink” was his reply and continued to pour his Seattle Simple into his bottomless mug. The Sheriff found his behavior to be peculiar and insisted he’d try some of that bizarre potion. The Stranger reached into his other pocket and everyone tensed up. The Stranger smirked and pulled out another handy bottle of Craft Elixir. He handed it over to the man with the badge.
The Sheriff admired the bottle of Wallingford Wanderlust and ordered himself up a glass of whiskey. He turned that stylish bottle upside down and soon his spirit took off. The Sheriff and The Stranger were up till dawn cracking jokes and busting jigs. Townsfolk flocked into the saloon asking for more of that exciting elixir. Being in a fine mood The Stranger obliged. By night fall that one pony town was swimming in cannabis sauce and for one fleeting moment they became the center of the whole wide world.
From that day hence they all spoke of that mysterious stranger and his mysterious elixir which turned their town into one heady place to be.
