mister beer is back and he’s getting all geeky on star wars and imperial stout trooper!

editors note: the views expressed below are not necessarily shared by others at little pub. in fact, lars has never even seen star wars. 

So, you’re young and you’re feeling ambitious.  Sure, growing up on Tattooine was exciting when you were younger, but you’re older now and moisture-farming is getting boring.  Besides, the work can be handled by droids anyway – your family hardly needs you anymore. Your friends have all packed their bags and blasted off into space to embark on their own adventures.  Remember your neighbor Luke?  He met old man Kenobi and all of a sudden he’s off to be a Jedi.

Man, when is it going to be your turn?  Some of us are born lucky.  Well, maybe you’re thinking that it’s time to start taking matters into your own hands. You head down to Mos Eisley for a quick pop to liven up the doldrums.

“Give me something strong, something to take the edge off”.  Bartender pours you this funny black drink, something he calls “Imperial Stout Trooper”.  It’s midnight-black, foamy white at the top.  You lean in for a sip, but your head inadvertently jerks back a little bit when you’re hit with powerful aromas of chocolate and coffee.  Your hands shake slightly as you raise the glass to your mouth – you’ve never tasted something with so much power before.  Bittersweet flavors dance around your mouth.  Espresso melts into chocolate and toffee, with slight undertones of molasses.  The carbonation and mouthfeel is incredible.  Crisp, refreshing, unctuous, dark, mysterious.

You sip slowly at first, but soon start gulping it down, each quaff better than the last.  Your head is swimming slightly.  You feel like a loaded spring waiting to uncoil.  Your destiny is right there within your grasp.  “Hey bartender, who makes this?”  He smiles.  “That’s THE drink of the Empire.  Every time a Storm Trooper emerges victorious from battle, he receives a bottle.  They say the Emperor himself drinks a glass every night.  I even hear this stuff runs like oil through the veins of Vader’s bionic body.  This, my friend, is the essence of the Empire, summed up in liquid form.”

You lean back in your chair, smiling slightly, drunk on dark thoughts of power, of purpose.  Your path is clearly illuminated.  Some men are born to serve the light, others gravitate towards the dark.  And when the dark tastes this good, who could resist?  You raise your glass, nod at the bartender.  “To the Empire”.

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