I’m in the business of liquids. There are, of course, many different kinds of liquids, but my liquids are morally and socially superior to most. That’s because my liquids are made with grains, hops, and yeast. If my liquids sound delicious, that’s because they are. Yes, I’m in the business of liquids—and business is good.

I spent my days brewing many containers of my yellowish-brown liquids, which are then poured into bottles and shipped to other liquid strongholds like Seattle, Austin, and Portland. There, liquid connoisseurs are eager to drink my frothy liquids. Sometimes, I make a liquid and then keep it in a dark place for several years. That’s because old liquids are the best liquids. Truthfully, I would rather drink no liquids than drink bad liquids. If you’d like to see how I make my liquids, you can pay six dollars to tour my liquid-making facility.

The most impressive liquids are the ones that taste the worst. Enjoying grassy, rubbery liquids is a sign of a Big Cool Man. I, myself, am a Big Cool Man. I am married to a Good and Cool Wife, who also prefers ill-tasting liquids. She knows a great deal about yeast, but I know much more.

Imperial liquids, stout liquids, wheaty liquids. There are subtle differences between these liquids that make me exclaim with joy. You may not understand why I am exclaiming, but you must also exclaim if you want to seem Big and Cool. That’s because it’s important to pretend to like things you actually hate—things like obscure films, hats that don’t cover your ears, and foamy liquids that taste like distilled Sharpie markers. Also, Joy Division.

I’ve built my liquid business with my own two Big and Cool Hands. I chose exposed brick, Edison bulbs, and uncomfortable wooden tables for the interior. This is an aesthetic we in the liquid business call “stripped-down.” The building used to house a Radio Shack, but you would never know.

Sometimes, patrons of my liquid business choose to drink my liquids during hikes, float trips, or barn weddings. When that happens, they post pictures of their liquids on Instagram so their followers know they are Big, Cool, Stripped-Down Men.

It’s very important to me that people enjoy the right kinds of yeasty liquids. Adding fruit or other traditionally tasty components to a liquid is a good way to brand yourself a sissy. Liquids should taste like grass and tires and that’s it.

When drinking a grassy, foamy liquid, you should sniff it deeply, take a swig, put it down, and express delight at the taste, which is sharply reminiscent of the urine-soaked alleys of Barcelona. Then, you’ll want to yell about the hops. Make extra sure that everyone around you hears you yelling about the hops.

Sometimes, I’m very tired from spending my days boiling yeast and grains. I wonder if it’s worth it, this life of a liquid maker. Then, I pour myself a mug of fresh, frothy, brownish-yellow grain water, and I realize—yes, yes it is.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go ferment my grains with a microscopic fungus that converts sugar into alcohol. Delicious!