Wayne gretzky 99 proof, ice cask, red cask
The great one
I used to be like you; young, early 30’s, tall, slender, hip. Making the scene. My erection stood so firm, it would go to 110 degrees of obtuse angle, bending into my rippled abdomen. My erection was so firm it would require both hands for me to bend it down into the toilet for a morning pee. My ejaculate, creamy white, so white, it reflected light into a blinding glare, hot, thick as paste, flew out of my stretch marked shaft with such velocity it would leave red welts on whatever naked skin it landed on and would leave bruises on the firmest of breasts. Women all over the world, subdued by my boyish good looks and charming wit beg and drag themselves by my clothes to be slain with my penis. For them, I say no. no longer do I shatter the hips and pelvic structure of a human woman with my enormous penis, no longer do i break ribs with the impact of my delivered ejaculated sperm. No longer.
In fact, I remember the days when I would travel , sail the freshest water in the world, right here in my own territory, traversing the fastest of ships, commanding the largest of fleets. Alas, today, I travel alone, unrecognized, usurped by the new sailors. They come in waves, these new sailors; plenty of them too, they come, they write scripture of whisky from distant lands; Scotland, japan, india. they write not on parchment, like I do, but they exploit themselves in swarms, for months, like locusts, then when they realize there is no treasure to plunder sailing the whisky seas, they sail off, never to be heard from again… leaving… me.
Broken from my last mission to Windsor with my trusted crew, we have since splintered and taken on new horizons, new paths to travel. I sit, nursing my wounds, realizing my mortality for the first time in my life; caused by the brutal assault on the casino in Windsor… the screams, the tormented pain of wailing innocents disemboweled and eviscerated, left to hemorrhage on the cold ground; gripping onto their severed limbs… i shudder.
Realizing my mortality indeed, I cannot die recovering from battle, but I will die on my feet, doing what I do best; drinking whisky, sailing a pirate ship and penetrating the mighty depths of the moist vaginal canal of sea creatures. When I received the call to tour the gretzky distillery, I contacted my partner, chef paul.
When paul and I met on the shores of the chippawa creek, he inquired as to why I did not have my sloop handy. Without explanation I dragged a rusty dagger in several slits across his throat and pushed him off the dock into the water. I took the same knife and dragged 5 slits across my throat, plunging my fingers into the cuts and opening my throat into my esophagus and tossing myself under the water. Opening my eyes under the surface, I grabbed chef paul and demonstrated how we could now breath underwater with our new gills, to filter oxygen from the water and sustain ourselves with plankton and swallow small schools of minnow as we swam to the distillery.
Arriving in Niagara from the lake, we entered the distillery and joined our tour. The fermenters, stills, bags of dried grain, we passed by observing the hard work of distilling the golden nectar. Being on such a large winery they utilize the used wine barrels to add complexity to the whisky, rather than soaking them with hot water and drinking the extracted alcohol like the eastern savages do.
A young lady approached our tour guide and whispered into his ear. When they were exchanging secrets in front of us, I noticed the guide’s eyes drifted into mine; surely the young lady was discussing my identity. Soaking wet with river water and bleeding open sores upon our throats, we tended to stick out a little. The lady left the guide’s side and strolled past me, gazing at the gigantic bulge behind my khaki pantaloons. It happens so often, im not even offended by the gaze, the staring, me having to turn down the sexual pleads of hundreds of women, daily. The maiden of my dreams is waiting for me to arrive safely from my majestic voyage, and I will attend softly to her portside.
We sat on wooden stools and enjoyed a lecture and vertical tasting of the three whiskies, which I did not pay for. I noticed some pot distilled new make for nosing purposes. I drank the new make. I noticed a flavor wheel on the table. I took the flavor wheel. I took the nosing kit, I took a stack of post it notes and I saw some ladie’s pen lying on a table, so I took it too. After I took all I could, I left the building and walked down the road to the nearest 7-11 merchant. I secured the largest gulpie container I could and filled it with one entire litre of nacho sauce from the dispenser; it’s free. Do not judge my rash of theft; I am a pirate after all.
A pirates job is not only to drink and plunder, but also to ensure the safety of my crew by keeping them regular as well, and which I do. Searching the farthest reach of hallways and strolling passed locked offices, I found my way into what seemed like the most private, exclusive bathroom in the entire country. Vases, filled with fresh flowers, marble tiles, and birds fly freely throughout this spacious atrium, with vaulted ceilings and pillars made of solid gold. I strolled my way into the stalls. Grasping the brass knob and pushing the oak door, a man sat on the toilet in front of me, a look of shock on his face to discover that I stumbled upon him in a moment of privacy.
The man was thin, with flowing blonde hair on the back of his head and a short crop on top, he wore an orange and blue hockey jersey crested with a 99 on it. he stared, silent at me while I approached and bent myself at the hip as i stripped myself naked in front of him. as he sat on the toilet, I climbed over and straddled my legs over his and sat face to face on the lap of the great one. cautious, I watched as he closed his eyes and puckered his lips; he moved his lips towards mine. With one outcropped index finger, I pressed it against his wet pouting lips. I reached down, between my thighs, lower, between his thighs and placed my hand around the shaft of a famous penis. Mine. He opened his eyes and looked down to witness me pulling my flaccid penis out of the toilet water and hung it over my thigh.
Finally, he spoke; ‘you truly are…’
‘the great one.’ I finished.
After my business was done, I found chef paul enjoying cocktails in the outdoor lounge, made with all 3 of wayne gretzky’s whiskys, to create harmony, complexity. We drank 2 old fashions and 2 manhattans before leaving. The bar maid handed us our bill, which totaled an astounding 70 gold pieces.
‘70$?’ I asked.
Chef paul nodded.
‘4 drinks?’ I insisted.
Chef paul nodded again.
‘load the cannons,’ I stated.
Tight. Toffee, grape skins, red fruit, sawdust and soft candies. Rye grain influence.
Sweet entry with oak, pastel candies and orange fruit gummies. Berries, grapes, rye grains. Vanilla custard. A nice, creamy texture. Nutmeg, cloves and pepper spice up the middle to end and leaves with pulling tannins. Medium long finish. Complex, rich and rye forward. In the last fade there is an interesting a sense of artificial mint or wintergreen.
Very good, add 2 drops of water per 15 ml for an extra special palate. Too good for an 89, but not good enough for a 91. Surprising for a new distillery.
Gretzky red cask
Fruity nose with red berries, but a certain astringency that follows up. Potpourri, custard, and vanilla pods. Very sweet on the nose with some sour rye grains popping up. Sweet corn, sweet tarts, honey, sawdust and light oak. An interesting nose full of smoky sweet candies.
Thin, oily palate with the sweet tart theme continuing from the nose. Obvious amounts of grain mixed with red wine, (artificial)grape soda, corn, cinnamon, cloves and Oak. Astringent, watery, hot.
The gretzky distillery has been open(and distilling approximately) since apr. 7 2017 and was releasing sourced whisky finished in their own wine casks.
Local corn, rye and malted rye(from Brantford) are fermented for 5 days with a distillers yeast and distilled in a combination pot column(8 plate) and column still(20 plate). The fermenters are 7,ooo litres.
They distill the rye to roughly 70% abv in the column and corn to roughly 80% abv in the combination. All grains are distilled separately. The barrel fill abv is roughly 63% for rye and 68% for corn. As of October 2017 they are completing 15 barrels weekly.
The whiskies are married in stainless drums and finished in their own wine casks, which they have plenty, being owned by pellar estates winery.
Red cask finish is in cab sauv, cab franc or merlot barrels.
Ice cask is finished in vidal blanc barrels.
99 proof is a high rye premium blend finished in cab sauv barrels.
All finishing is for at least 100 days up to 5 months.
The ware house is kept in full exposure of sun.