John, age 50, had lived in Georgia since 1956. His mother had died before he was born, leaving a considerable sum of money in the Family accounts.
Money that would never see the light of day, because his Greedy uncle, seeking a chance to ruin John, froze said account. John was forced to seek out employment.
He found a job,working at a brewing company. The pay was meager but the beer was okay. "John worked for a man named Morris Whitaker, A man of 40 years, with
broad shoulders and a desire to take on the world's best. Morris loved Beer but despised weakness. John was trained by Georgia's best in the ways of taste, look and
flavor. Morris quizzed John daily on different subjects. How much was the first beer? In what year was Budweiser formed? Things that meant nothing to John, but
meant a lot to Morris. "Are you a going to be like the soft crap they sell on TV?" he would ask John each day, obviously voicing his disdain for Coors light. The so
called "Silver bullet" had no effect on Morris, who had drank Goat urine to get a buzz in the 40's and Chugged "Prison wine" at the risk of ill health Morris had grown
up in an age where the lure of riches was irresistible. The 30's bought with it, gangs, violence and moonshine. Morris's first encounter with bootleg moonshine was life
changing. It taught him 2 things: 1: bootleg moonshine was horrid and 2: he could make a better beer. "As such, Morris decided to improve on the crappy moonshine
by finding ways to sweeten it. When that didn't work, Morris made a deal Cthulhu to make him the #1 beer manufacturer in the world. This led to centuries of war (in
fact some speculated that WW1 started due to Germany's crappy beer) Over the years, many tried to steal the formula, especially when Morris made a new vodka.
People loved it but one poor sod asked too many questions and was invited for a "private taste test". Unbeknownst to the man, he was given Bacardi Dark 192 proof
and pulled over later that night. The first of many attempts at Morris's formula no doubt./p Of course, John never knew this. John's brother Jacob was reported
missing 4 days later. He was found about a month later, in the woods, naked and screaming about Dagon. John took him back to the brewery and gave him some of
Morris's beer, swiping it out of his still open lips. (To be fair to Morris he only had one bottle of Sherry from the year 1922) "The sherry calmed Jacob and he spoke
but a few words: "Cthulhu is coming for you Morris. The Old One demands an audience" "Well, that's good news, he can have a drink on me" said Morris, flashing a
fake smile and inwardly bristling, at the thought of having to give away free beer. Jacob's eyes flashed a pale blue and he went silent. "Cthulhu accepts the invitation"
Jacob laughed as the earth split open and Cthulhu stepped out. Morris tried to retreat to the beer room and bar the doors, intent on not giving away a single ounce of
his prized beer. Cthulhu simply flicked him aside and helped himself to a massive container of beer, getting drunk in 10 minutes. He projected his now drunk
conscience into Jacob who tried his hardest to convey his master's words: "thanks for the beer...hic" Unfortunately for the Old one, Morris was a fan of 190% proof
beers. Cthulhu leaned back to steady himself, but fell to the ground, inadvertently killing a spy that had been sent to retrieve the formula. He lay motionless for 3
days, during which, Morris found that his bloodstream could be used to make exceptionally tasty red wine and Vodka. Morris hooked up an IV to Cthulhu's body and
watched as the red gold began to flow ever so steadily out of the demon's body. Cthulhu woke up to see a crowd of drunk people puking on the floor and at least one
dude had peed on his foot. Cthulhu was angry, drunk and ready to Kill Morris. But before Cthulhu could rain a blow, he screamed as the Hangover began. The scream
shattered windows, induced labor in pregnant women, caused fatal Diarrhea epidemics and killed the head of the spy ring, who was in the restroom suffering from
said Epidemic. He passed out again and Morris hooked up another IV John couldn't help but laugh as the Old one struggled to get up, weak from sickness, alcohol
consumption and a hangover. All Cthulhu could do was feebly crawl back into his hole and die in agony, while his bloodstream slowly drained to nothing. "Cthulhu was
dead, Morris was rich and Jacob had returned to normal. All was well