They called it ‘hole punch’, because after drinking it, that’s all your memory had left.
It contained everything from the top shelf, most things from the back room and one ingredient outlawed since 1987, when Terence Stokes, Her Majesty’s Inspector, took a tentative sniff and spent the next two years rocking back and forth and muttering about cabbages.
“Sure about this?” the bartender asked.
The man looked up, with eyes that had seen Hell. “I wanted to be an astronaut,” he said. “Today, I adjusted our paradigms to empower blue-sky oversight and enhance our deliverables.”
“…I’ll make it a double.”