Sure, I’d be happy to look over these reports for you. But first, welcome to my nanobrewery. No, we don’t have to go anywhere. You’re in it, right here in my cubicle.

Today I have my Beet Saison on tap. Nothing beats a red ale before a teleconference. Aw, thanks. I knew you’d notice the lacing it leaves on the side of the glass.

I use fresh Rocky Mountain Spring Water from the break room water cooler for my PowerPoint Pilsner. I actually grow my own hops here, sustainably, on this Chia Pet in the sunny corner of my cubicle. My carbon footprint is like, negative.

Right now my thing is super small batch one-off IPAs. I brew them from the tears of Trappist monks in these eyedroppers, or “nano-growlers,” if you will. No, you don’t drink it. You just squirt it in your eye.

Roland—three cubicles over? The programmer with the cheek beards? He’s one crazy beast. Brews a nasty 70% ABV stout using water from the toilet tank. He plays Sabbath to it throughout the brewing process. He calls it Lucifer’s Bungsauce. He also brews a smoked alligator jerky-infused porter. It’s not for every palate, but for the last five years running at Company Brewfest, he’s won the Aggression category, hands down.

Last Brewfest, Logan, the new guy, offered Roland a plastic cup of Bud. Roland dumped it out on his shoes, pissed in the cup, and handed it back to Logan. The sensitivity trainers were all over him for that. Now Logan understands that their gestures were basically equivalent in Roland’s religion, and he apologized.

There will be time for those reports soon, but first I want to show you these drinking glasses in new shapes I’m developing to enhance the experience of my beers. There’s nothing Roland and I like better than sitting around the glory hole at the end the day and blowing glasses with sides raked at 30 degree angles so your nose is completely surrounded by the aromas when you drink—it really helps you sort out the floral notes from the vegetal ones.

Oh here, have I given you one of these yet? It’s a Beer Aroma Wheel that should help you navigate your reactions at Company Brewfest. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m developing a mask you can affix to the top of your glass so the olfactory notes blast your receptors directly. Top secret though, okay?

These casks here? Yeah, beautiful aren’t they? Two firkins and a kilderkin. I got them in the fire sale Alexi held when he was laid off. Man, were we sorry to see his complex Russian Imperial Porter go.

I know, I know, a lot of people are buzzing about Bill’s Mercenary Vortex Triple IPA, and he talks a good game. Between you and me, anyone can overhop a beer. But balance? Texture? Truth? Justice? Dignity? That’s where Leon in accounts receivable comes in.

Janie in HR is really into lambic beers—she ferments her lambics by exposing them to the wild yeasts and bacterias of the company cafeteria. Put whatever fruit you have in your lunch sack in her inbox in the morning, and she’ll infuse a beer with it and have a growler ready for you by quitting time.

No, don’t mention any of this to the graphic designers. They got a little testy last year when Brewfest was approaching and we all wanted help with our labels. They started leaving AA brochures around and threatening to pour out our pilsners on some garden slugs in the courtyard.

Lars in marketing is a Bavarian from Munich. Can you believe it? Valhalla, right? And get this—his mother gave birth to him on an outdoor table at a biergarten under a gently rustling chestnut tree.

First sound he heard was two beer steins clinking together. I mean, the guy has an insane pedigree. Can you imagine the possibilities? Birth Right Porter. Umbilical Ale. Bavarian Badass ESB. And the label design could be just sick. But no. The guy drinks wine.