Stewart's Ginger Beer

Ladies and gentlemen, the mighty throne of Spicy Ginger has just been usurped. Golden Cockerel is no longer the most potent of ginger drinks. Sometime last week I was at the supermarket buying the usual bullshit when I came across a bottle of Stewart's Ginger Beer. I was like this will be good or whatever because all of their shit is tasty but I did not expect to get my taste buds mouth raped by stranger. This is the spiciest mother I have ever consumed. It burned like fuck and left my girlfriend in tears (no joke).

I present to you the play by play:

I sit in my car and adjust my sweatpants.
My balls are stuck my leg.
I unstick them and feel relieved.
I pull the bottle out of the bag.
Fuck it's not a twist top.
Wait yes it is.
I open it.
My nose catches fire and I vomit on myself.
The pungent aroma of spices from the Orient invades the car.
I get a boner and rip my jogging pants.
I take a sip and my face melts off my skull.
My skeleton catches fire.
I bend down with my erect dong poking out of my ripped jogging pants.
I collect my face and slap it back on.
I take another sip.
My face melts again.
The hot spicy magma coats my insides and burns my loins.
My skin bubbles like newts in a cauldron.
I die and come back to life as a turtle.
I float down into the sewer and accidentally land in a puddle of neon green mutagen.
My body transforms.
My tiny turtle arms grow exponentially.
I am huge.
I love pizza and live with a rat.
I also like to ride my skateboard.
I only go out to the surface in a trench coat and over sized hat and somehow people don't realize that I am not human.
I meet a man who coats his body in purple robes and silver armor.
He says that my rat friend scratched his face and now he has to wear a mask.
We dance to Vanilla Ice and then I throw him off a building into a garbage truck.
My friend Casey Jones crushes his bones and then tongue fucks a reporter.

You seriously need to drink this.

It's spicy as fuck.