11% ABV. 82 IBU.
Utter blackness. Deep ebon. Slim brown/ash head. Complete opacity. Dark and dangerous.
In the nose: Thick. Vast. Cavernous. Bourbon. Char. Ash. Molasses. Dark rums. Evil elixirs. Tobacco. Leather. And, yeah, a bit of chocolate & a trace of coffee.
In the mouth: Thickness, again. Vastness, once more. Big, big, big. Giant bourbon barrel meets Brobdingnagian Imperial Stout. Richness upon richness. All the cocoa and the vanilla, compounded over and over. Roasted, toasted, ashy, burnt. Sweetness, darkness, and booze-ness. Rich in every regard. So, so, so. So everything.
Chapter XX: No Light Escapes The Gravity Well Imperial Stout. Galactic Sector XX Plural Z Alpha. "....I turned my telescope to a small patch of sky that had eluded my view: A null space, devoid of stars or light, beckoning me. The aperture yawned as I looked beyond our dimension, into a cosmic knot dripping with a thick, chocolatey stout. I needed this delicious-looking star treat. And resting against a fermentation vat, an idea alighted upon my expanding brain. What I really needed was a rocket ship...."
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