Night of the Connoisseur's Demise: Descend into The Cask of Amontillado
A Beer Sampling Masquerade
Salutations,
Fortunato, you who so deeply appreciate a fine vintage, I extend an invitation most foul. The cryptic chamber beneath my abode lies a cellar, dank and dusty, housing libations that time forgot—or perhaps time wished to forget. This collection of bottles so enigmatic, so bizarre, they dare not utter their own names. They sit, shrouded in dust and disregard, silently begging for an end to their long, languid existence. Would you, my friend, provide such an end?
Do you relish the rare and the peculiar, the fermented and the foul? Rejoice then, for I have hatched an invitation so uniquely wretched, you'd be a fool to accept.
I cordially invite you to "The Night of the Connoisseur's Demise: Descend into The Cask of Amontillado". On this fateful night, we shall uncork concoctions that are sour, potent, and bewilderingly unnamed. Some brews are so rare, they dare not be drunk; some so odd, their existence defies reason.
Details of Your Downfall:
When the Sun Disavows Us: Oct 28th, 2023
Time: 7:00 pm
Venue: Our House
Defy Common Sense and Attend, But Beware:
- Plus Ones: Bring friends or spouse. As long as they appreciate old, weird libations, their presence shall be tolerated.
- Offspring: If you cherish them, leave them behind. Children are as welcome as sobriety in this dungeon of despair.
- Contribute to the Catastrophe: Drag forth something aged and abominable from your own forsaken vaults. Wine and spirits may darken our doorstep, but know they shall be greeted as the traitors they are.
- Morsels for the Cursed: We will offer scant bites to ease your impending doom. Bring nothing but your wretched self.
- Disguises for the Condemned: Adorn yourself in attire befitting a visit to Montresor's crypts— tattered capes or mysterious masks perhaps? Dress as if you're about to make an unforgettable, and regrettable, descent.
Consider this your one-way ticket into the abyss of questionable decisions. Whether you join to regret or regret to join, either outcome shall make for a tale most grotesque. Your regret is guaranteed.
RSVP at your own peril. The weight of your choices will sit heavier than the dust on my bottles.
Yours, in Terrible Taste and Judgment.
Montresor