The Arran 10 Year Old (750 ml Protestant Weapon of Mass Destruction (Protestant? ‘Mass’ destruction? Too soon, Pope Leo X?))

Tasting notes:
     The Unchill-filtered Arran Malt 10 year old’s opening salvo is unripe pluot butter slathered on the holystoned-ammonia-decks and begrimed porcupine leather boots of French pirate Montbars the Exterminator. That, and melted Heath bar sieved through a stolen silk and beaver bowler into a djembe commandeered from a Spanish vendor of lemons and wormy crabapples. Dispatching Spaniards on the main is no longer a family tradition, so Montbars’ lineal male descendent writes catalogue copy for hand cream, lemon butter, and candied persimmons for the Vermont Country Store® using an IBM Selectric™ typewriter and printer’s ink. Roundness of oranges, oblateness of mangoes. Man’s graves in mangroves with mangoes? I intuit an Inuit is in it?
     And bourbon casks, but not Louis Bourbon casks, half-filled, the Angel responsible for the share spending its time on a transatlantic love cloud before returning to heaven. Peccadilloes of the angels, armadillos of the devils, amontillados of the Venetians, vendettas of the papayas, peyote buttons of the Yaquis. [Stephen: ‘Vendettas of the papayas’?!?] A honey vanilla Häagen Dazs sundae coated in pineapple topping with reduction of Windex™ base.
     The finish induces tinnitus or, better yet, tintinnabulations: Is it live or is it my memory? Hard cider jack, biltong hardtack, the vinyl off-gassing schmutz is scared from the concave interior of my windshield, wiper blades rasping uselessly in a sandstorm. Rumpelstiltskin spinning straw into malterrific gold. Penelope weaving a tapestry to baffle the unwanted suitors. John knitting Amish afghans out of shed Angora fur collected by trained lemurs. Dew-drops on walnuts in a mezzotint executed by deceased Japanese National Living Treasure (when he was alive) Yozo Hamaguchi.

Our thanks to Sam Filmus and ImpEx for the sample!