copperhead ryes and shines

Copperhead family


Team 2 – the revengening


Whoever agreed with hitlers ideology of a perfect white race has obviously never spent time in welland, Ontario. Once again, im crammed into a large group of parents and screaming children as we are funneled into a crowded corner in the seaway mall.

This time there are four of us as we’ve packed our vehicle and headed to the shittiest mall in the Niagara region. Looking around, I see two people in this group of hundreds who I would actually consider myself attracted to enough to fuck; my wife and myself. Out of hundreds of people, im surrounded by hideous faces adorned with scowls carved deep into the faces of people who have spent decades in misery and disappointment. The stretch pants and flannel shirt craze is in high style here, some guy has a cum stain on his sweat pants and I think one woman has a rip in the crotch of her yoga pants. how fucking classy.

My wife and kid are getting absorbed into the crowd as the menacing, overweight and undereducated security guards are demanding people get closer together to control the expanse of the crowd for this show we are attending; which just so happens to be the Thomas the tank engine sing along that we were at last year, when the riot broke out.

The kids smell like pablem shit and the parents reek of cigarettes. I watch the crowd grow angry as people walk in front of their kids and block their view, parents hold their kids up on their shoulders and block the parents view too, some people are getting booster juice spilled on them. Meanwhile, the security team is pushing more parents, more shitty diaper kids and more strollers into the crowd. We are getting tighter and more claustrophobic by the moment. i keep a watch on my family.

Six minutes late of schedule, a girl dressed as an engineer pops up on stage and blasts the crowd with microphone feedback, deafening the crowd and scaring the kids, who start crying. She dances, she sings and behind her a front profile of Thomas the train pops out of a wooden mock shed. The front profile of the train rolls in and out of the shed and his eyes roll around on his face without reason or character. The lady dressed as an engineer talks to Thomas, which replies with his recorded script, activated by some monkey pushing play/pause buttons from behind the wood shed. Some of the kids stare lifelessly at the lady who stops singing intermittently because she either lost her breath or cant remember the words, adding tension to the crowd. The train continues to roll to and fro on the stage behind the dancing and occasionally singing engineer lady when the plastic train front on metal rollers loses traction and continues to roll a few extra feet forward, and accidentally rolls over the engineer’s foot.

‘HOLY FUCKING CUNT!!!’ the engineer screams as each pulse of her speeding heart pumps squirts of streaming blood out of her ripped shoe and crushed foot. ‘I CAN SEE MY BONES!!’ She falls on the ground wailing in pain before she quivers in convulsions from shock. The parents at the front of the crowd try to scoop their blood covered children and run back, but are simply too crowded together; the surge of heavy bodies, fear and adrenaline topple some of the crowd as people fall like dominoes and the ones left standing run and trample those underneath. Eyes bulge as throats are stepped on, crushing larynx and stomping bloodied broken noses. Women and children gasp for air but choke on the blood flooding their lungs as they are stepped on by pounding feet.

Knowing my wife, child and her friends child are four rows of sweaty bodies ahead of me I act as I only could; my index and middle finger act as a dagger as I scoop down into the soft spot of a babies skull and I swing that baby with all my might into a grown mans face and smother his nose and mouth until he falls onto the ground where I hold the seizing infant until the man stops struggling to breathe. I must be getting sloppy in my public riots, because I have been unexpectedly kicked in the balls from behind as a woman swiftly crushes my testicles with a hard soccer kick from her shin as I crash to the ground. She stands over me and comes down on my head with a thermos full of iced coffee; the impact splits my eyebrow wide open and the flowing of warm blood is blinding me. I struggle to stand on my knees as she continues to crash down on my head with the butt of the thermos. Out of one eye I can make out that she’s the white trash woman with the hole ripped in the crotch of her stretch pants. With all four fingers wedged together like a kit kat bar I ram them into her vaginal cavity, lift her up and flip her onto the ground, neck first. Her eyes stay open and glaze as she spasms on the cold tile floor. I have lost my bearing in this ferocious battle of fist and foot. The crowd is in full riot and as I rise to my feet, I’m punched in the kidney. As I wince in pain I notice a security guard is being strangled with a microphone cord while a small group of children pounce on him and tear apart his clothes as one child bludgeons his face with the walkie talkie. The plastic profile of Thomas is being rocked back and forth as it tumbles from the stage onto parents and children, struggling to fight their way to safety. Their ribs and limbs are crushed by the weight of the train that is flipped off the five foot high stage. The electrical source in the train ignites in flame and incinerates those trapped underneath.

Cranking my head to the left, I can feel somebody tugging and pulling on my arm, dragging me off of my feet yet again, as I look over I see my wife is carrying my son on her shoulder as she is the one to rescue me from peril, pulling me from the crowd by my arm. She lets go as I watch her remove a ball point pen from the bun in her hair and stabs it into a man’s eye. The man dressed in a jack daniels nascar coat falls screaming and wrenches the pen out of his eye socket, along with the deflated mucous layer of eyeball. The cord which attaches his eye hangs out as he falls on to a woman trying to flee, pinning her. My wife’s long brown hair falls down as she flips it over her shoulder, a move she does which secretly turns me on. My stomach churns as the kick in my balls has made me sick in pain. In the crowd I drop my pants and squat over an abandoned stroller and fill it with hot liquid diarrhea, which stains the stuffed animals and blankets of what must now be a child, lost in the fray. I pull my pants up without wiping.

Feeling the tug on my arm again, I look to my left to watch my wife hoof a man in the balls so hard that he vomits on her pants as he collapses in agony and his crotch darkens with bloody piss. Blowing through pursed lips I spit blood from my open facial cuts into a man’s face and plunge a house key into his trachea. Now, sure of my feet, I climb over fallen riot victims and charge toward another woman who is simply running to the exit trying to escape from the fight with her child in stroller. As I sprint by I reach my right arm back and drive through with a devastating right cross into the back of her skull, shattering my middle and ring finger as she falls forward, smashing her teeth on the push bar of the stroller. I look to find my wife and child as she shakes her head, saying ‘you really didn’t need to do that…’ we egress into the front foyer of the mall that is now filling with black smoke and pools of blood and watery shit. As we rush the doors we stop so my boy can push the automatic door opening button on the wall and wait patiently for the door to slowly swing open. We rush back into the car and flee the now flaming mall with my team of 4. Come to think of it, the copperhead family of whisky products which I will consume after I get home comes in a team of 4 styles as well. Hmph.


Kentucky shine

Alc. 40%


Very light on the nose with light impressions of oak and fruity corn whisky. fresh mint leaves, tropical fruits and pastel candies. Very simple, difficult to pull out impressions on the mute nose, because of such a light body.


Simple and too sweet, even syrupy. Some fruity impressions, some char, spice and light pepper. Light bodied and simple.



Very young spirit without character



Magnetawan rye

Alc. 40%


Sweet, vanilla pudding, floral, fruity with a bit of grape skin. Touch of dry wood, light rye impressions, creamy corn.


Bright, young and spry, although very sweet. Yellow stone fruit, some spicy rye traits poke through the sweet profile. Texture is thin.

Overall: 71

Please bottle at higher abv,


Tennessee shine



Very quiet on the nose, quite neutral. Void. Some sour grain and a little sweetness. Some dry wood, but very little. Possible milk chocolate.


Watery, thin and sweet. Some grain and cereal in the background followed by pencil shaving. Sweet berries. The finish is immediate. There is almost no flavor, extremely light and flavourless. Simple.

Overall: 68

What is going on here? This is very unfortunate.


Almaguin shine

Alc. 40%


Very quiet and neutral. There is a light impression of sawdust, toffee and a little sourness. shows almost no character. There is some sharp spirit to the nose.

Nosing the empty glass the next day, however seems to shows signs of toffee and campfire, which tells me these were in fact stored in barrels for some time, even if limited.


This is a difficult palate due to it being so neutral, although there is an artificial mint and peppery tannic pull on the palate. The palate is vodka like.

Overall: 68

Please consider these remarks as constructive criticism. these products are branded and marketed as whisky based or whisky-like products, however the overall impression is that these are far too neutral and underaged to be appreciated as a whisky product.

Please note:

Although the representatives refuse to show transparency behind their products, what we do know is that this is a new micro distillery in northern Ontario(2016, or 2017 opening) releasing a wide variety of whisky-like products, including ‘shines’, ryes and flavoured spirits alongside a black currant vodka that I am excited to try. As of 2017, they source some product from an undisclosed distillery, have been purchasing re-coopered barrels, they have plans to grow and harvest their own rye and purchase grain locally when possible.

These products reviewed however are grim and unfortunate. I have seen some very positive feedback from some customers and as always, you are free to purchase and consume with your own consciousness, but I would not purchase any of these products since my first impressions of product is dismal and bleak. Best of luck to those involved at copperhead distillers.