It was the mid-30s, the great depression had just ended coincidentally around the same time alcohol became legal again and people were beginning to move on with their lives, but stirring about with a lot less consequence was a story about one of the greatest places you had never heard of in the State of Detroit. While Ford was off cementing his legacy as the greatest inventor in the city, there was a man in the seedy underbelly who had been toiling away making the finest of grape products the world had ever seen. 

"My name is Fi-fi... you've got this pal, you've got this... they're not tough. They're not tough at all! They control your entire destiny with a yes or n-n-no, but who cares? I sure as hell don't!", coaching himself in the mirror, he smiled widely once the thoughts of the investors all lined up in a row completely nude popped into his mind, a technique he was taught by his dear bastard of a father. 

A few hours later, after working his magic in the room, he rushed out of it with a few strands of tears dripping from his face. Surely he was not crying, but we'll just say it hadn't gone too well. Having come unprepared and only bringing a bushel of grapes with him, the lack of a portfolio which he thought would only bog him down was the end of it all. Or was it? He had one more option, an option he did not want to tap into so soon into his working relationship with the family, still being an associate and all, but it had to be done.

Loading up all of his grapes into a large bucket, he ran it over to the headquarters of Exodus. Tapping up against the window where Nebula would regularly go to be alone from him, the door slowly opened after a few moments of incessant "Open up." and after what felt like forty minutes, his pitch was finished.

"So you see... the grapes, they're... good, I have an entire field of them, inherited it from my father when I put that hit out on him. Very sugary, and, uh, good. They're good. As... As I said, I just need a seventy thousand dollar down payment on the building and then another twenty thousand for the manufacturing and, and... are you listening to me? Wait, where'd you go?"

This wasn't going well so far, and while he left the HQ in complete financial ruin from having bought so many grapes which would now surely go bad, he ran into an old friend. The man who no one else could see but him, the one who gave him the nickname in the first place, his small bulbous face and long crooked nose, the plaid shirt and pants to match; his skin like leather except for his legs which were extremely smooth and semi-offputting due to all of the lotion that was constantly applied to them.

"Hello boy."

"Hello... you, you don't exist, you know?"

"That's not a nice thing to say to your imagination. Not a nice thing at all."

"What do you want?"

"You mean, what do you want? I have an idea for you. Just come closer. Juuuust a little bit closer, yes. Yes. You know the drill, boy."

Then it happened, again. The imagination took over Figment's body and gave him the ideas he could not come up with himself, the confidence he was typically bereft of and the power that he always lacked. Stepping his foot into the bucket or grapes he smashed them up into a paste-like consistency, and then a few months later his new plan was ready to be realized; bringing a bottle of his new venture to Nebula, he pushed it over to her. It was smooth, it was sweet, it was the finest wine one could make with random ingredients from their own home and it was cheap. Very, very, very, painfully cheap.

"This is a three-month-old wine, the oldest in our stock for now... great stuff, is it not? Now imagine that sitting in a really dark cellar for the next five years. Your mind is blown, is it not?" 

Unsure of if it was the taste or his new sales pitch of saying please in a shrill voice over and over-- all he knew was that he sealed the deal and his new business would be open. Grapes were a thing of the past, fermented grapes were in. Sure, due to the cold nature of Detroit he could only do this for four or five months every single year, but scarcity was a great selling point and yeah, he didn't know French or anything about the language or its people, but B'peu sounded French enough and it probably meant something, somewhere.

This would all work out.

B'Peu Winery

<font color="#B4B4B4">It was finally time to sell some wine. </font>

Surely everyone would come to taste the nectar and watch the process be done, it was a brilliant idea... just not so brilliant to begin the venture in the middle of the winter. He'd figure something out. Maybe.

<font size="1">Probably not.</font>

Imelda isn't quite the wine tasting woman that her friends are. They taste wine almost every evening. Imelda usually opts for a whiskey or rum. However,  tonight she stumbled upon this very unusual winery. 

Entering through the big doors, she is greeted by a.... well lets just say unique kind of man. He takes her coat at the door and shows her to a seat. "Here, lovely lady. Wash your palate with this"  he says in a soft husky voice while pouring a sweet mulberry looking wine. Imelda looks suspiciously at the man then takes the glass and swishes it around her mouth before spitting it into the bucket. "surprisingly very nice,  thank you. What else do you have?"

When Imelda walked into his large estate filled with mostly smashed grapes and a few bottles strewn about the floor, he quickly ushered her into the one room that was well kept and not a pure mess. The tasting room-- named after the fact that you... tasted. things. in it. Once she had finished tasting his newest concoction, which was mostly just yeast-- he pulled out a bottle that was aptly named No Idea.

"This is a very good drink, very good. It may not even be wine at all, I've just been shoving things into barrels and hoping for the best if I'm being honest with you. The winter weather isn't too kind to my grapes, so don't be turned off by any hints of extreme sour."

Handing the bottle gently over to her, he flashes a grin and waits for the next taste.

Athena slid out of her limo that she had paid for after buying herself a few new dresses. As Athena walked towards the winery, her hands held onto a small black purse and approached the establishment. She loved wine, it was the only alcohol she liked. Beer was always disgusting and frankly, it gave her a headache. Her drink of choice was a nice sweet wine.

As Athena walked into the business, she smiled and spoke.

“Hey, Figment. A glass of your finest wine please.”

Athena said as she sat down on a stool, dusting it off before she sat down on it and waited to have a glass of wine. Her main plan was to pay for a glass of wine. If she enjoyed it, she planned on leaving with a bottle, or two, or maybe more. Hey! She had a problem with controlling her wine consumption. If she enjoyed the wine, she would most likely be one of Figments regular customers.

Seeing Athena walk her way inside the nice part of his Winery, he popped open his finest two-month-old vintage red...ish hued wine and poured some of the concoction into the cleanest glass available. This was his time to show off his product to his own city, as well as potentially the rest of the world with Imelda having connections in other cities; they both seemed to be enjoying themselves as Imelda was so lost in the bottle at this point that she was practically asleep. 

"Hello Athena, you wanted a sample, yes? On the house! All I ask is for the $3.99 tasting fee, but outside of that, there is no payment required for your first tasting. Every subsequent tasting afterwards will have no fee but will run you three dollars and ninety-nine cents. "

With much skill, he slid the glass filled to the brim with the red...ish liquid over to Athena and waited for her to have her first sip. A small bucket was placed nearby if she wished to only taste, but finishing off the entire drink was also encouraged. 

"This one has a very minty, earthy finish. I'm sure you'll love it."

And if she didn't love it... well, then his heart would be crushed, but he wasn't going to tell her that. 

Taking the bottle from Figment she pours herself a small glass of 'I have no idea' then places the bottle aside and takes a mouthful and swishes it around her mouth. "Bleeeuurrrghhhhhagh... what in the world is that. You should have named it 'Sour Power just made it up as I go along concoction of medicine' wine." Imelda glares at Figment and slides the bottle off the counter into the bin beside her. 

"You cannot give that to anyone else. If I die tonight you're gonna be on a murder charge. Death by poisoning..." She chuckled her little head off... it wasn't even that funny if funny at all. Possibly she may now be a little tipsy after all of this wine tasting. At least he got something right she thought as she drooped her head lower till it was flat on the counter.. 

Imelda waves her hands a little.. "I am still here.. just not here"

Athena smiled and nodded slightly, taking a five from her purse and setting it on the counter. She then took the glass that was offered to her, listening to his description as she first smelled the wine. She always took a sniff of her wine before she tasted it. As she held it up to the light, she nodded approvingly at the shade of color before taking her initial sip. Ladies don’t spit, so she definitely did not see herself making use of the bucket that was provided. After her initial sip, Athena tilted her head silently before taking a second sip, rolling it around in her mouth some so it could tantalize all her taste buds before she swallowed her second sip.

“It’s marvelous. It is exactly what I am looking for in a wine. It’s sweet in the beginning and then as it fades I do detect the minty, earthy finish. It’s truly a gift. I’ll take six bottles of this, unopened of course. Please expect more orders in bulk for the wine as well, over these next few months. I plan on hosting a dinner party at my penthouse and would love to serve this to my guests with dinner. I will also take a few of your suggestions that pair well with my meal, once the menu is set when the time comes. I am thinking a nice roast pig, but who knows what it will be when the time comes? In any case, the initial six bottles will do just fine.”

Athena stated as she finished her glass and pulled out her wallet. A bottle of good wine was always hard to find and once she found one, she always ordered in bulk. Some would say she had an addiction, but others would say that Athena knew what she liked. This time, she enjoyed Figments wine. She only wondered silently how he knew she loved mint? Mint ice cream, mint cookies, and a mint finish with her wine. He was a true wine connoisseur to know what kind of wine his customers needed before they walked in the door.

Shoving the dossier he had on Athena deeper into his desk so that she couldn't see, he smiled and whistled to a few of his men who were dressed up in full grape costume-- the giant purple balls hanging from their purple shirts really gave off the vibe of a true winery-- as he handed them a slip of paper that he just scribbled down a few words on they went off to collect a crate of six bottles for Athena and were ready and willing to do anything for enough money. Anything.

"Pretend like they're not here, they get shy, and of course, my Winery is ready and able to create any type of Wine that any of my guests may need! If you would like you can bring me food, plenty of it, and after I am finished eating I can tell you exactly what pairs well with it; they tell me it is a skill passed down from generations of suckling on grapes for survival from being forced to live in the hills."

Awkwardly laughing Figment grabbed a seventh bottle of wine and handed it to Athena and muttered: "On the house.", it was a special extra minty blend he had been messing around with. Some said it was too much, but that one person was no longer with the living... so as of yesterday no one has ever said anything bad about it! He was sure she would love it.

That is when he turned his attention back to Imelda who seemed to be nearly on the floor as she had become intoxicated a bit faster than even he had anticipated. Dragging a rather large keg over towards her, he allowed the juices inside to flow into a rather large glass, one that most people would use for other alcoholic beverages rather than the strong wines of his business. 

"I've heard you wanted some more? Here is my finest glass. I call it the liver burster." 

Sliding what was obviously just a large mug filled with wine towards her, he smiled. Another job well done. He was nailing it!

Athena smiled slightly as she glanced towards the men who moved upon Figments whistle. As she glanced at them, she smiled some and winked at one before she cleared her throat and looked back to Figment.

“Of course.”

Athena replied smoothly as she listened to his request. Bring him food? She had no problem with that. She only wanted what was best for her guests, whether it was white or red wine, but nothing too horribly dry. Dry wine was the worst, in her book. With that, Athena handed Figment a bundle of cash for his service and the wine before smiling as she looked at the free seventh bottle.

“Thanks so much, Darlin, I’ll be back soon with that food for you to sample. The dinner party will be here in a couple of weeks., so be expecting the food to be delivered soon. Ta!”

Athena said as she smiled and headed out to the car that was waiting for her, letting Figments men load the crate of wine into the trunk.

“Thank you, gentlemen. Do give me a call if you ever need me to do any... heavy lifting.”

Athena teased as she smiled and then climbed into her car and closed the door, leaving Figments establishment a truly happy customer.

Athena was on her way and another happy customer was in the books at B'peu Winery, which reminded Figment that he had to go and write it in his book. It was a long expedition to his second building on the other side of the long and winding grape vineyard and would take at least a few hours to finally make it there; which is why before taking that trek he went to his home that was really just a convenient shack a few minutes walk away from the tasting building. Forcing open the shack door with a screwdriver that he had hidden beneath a rock just outside of the view from would-be thieves, he was inside and collecting everything that he would need for the trip.

• A torch
• 2 swords
• A pistol
• Shotgun
• 9 Bodyguards

He typically would bring his pet pigeon as well to make sure no attackers snuck in through the mountains to the south, but little Charles was suffering from a cold and was in no shape to be used as a lookout and so there would be no aerial assistance this time. That was fine though because Figment had done this rodeo at least a hundred times now and only a few bodyguards have ever died. 

"Alright boys, you know the drill.", two of the men grabbed Fig's legs as another held onto his back for support while they carried him off into the grape wilderness that was B'peu Winery. After what seemed like ten entire minutes, they had arrived at the second building where Figment kept all of the more logistical sides of things for the business. As the bodyguards set him down, he briskly made his way inside and let the nine men leave to go back to their jobs of making sure Coyotes don't come and steal the produce.

"So where is it... my logbook... hmmm. I swear I left it somewhere here."

Using one of the swords to cut through some of the cobwebs that have accrued in the house over months of unuse, he found what he was looking for tucked away behind some old jars of fermenting grapes in one of his earliest experiments. He would handle the hideous mess another time, but for now, he had something more important to do.

Dear Diary, 

Today Athena bought six bottles of wine from me and I gave her a seventh for free. I think I've convinced her to bring me some food which is great, because I've not eaten much since coming up with this terrible great idea. Imelda is here too, but I'm starting to think she just intends to drink my wine and not pay. Oh well.

Love,

Figmentius R. Figment

Finishing up with his logging of the serious business movements, he was happy with what he had accomplished here and went back outside. Blowing his bodyguard whistle, all nine appeared after only a few minutes of waiting and carried Figment back over to the tasting room where Imelda was still fast asleep. Making a loud grunting noise to garner her attention, he placed a bottle of wine he had been working on for a couple of months now, his newest and most prized of all the wines.

"I call this one, Pretentious. It has a limey, squalor aftertaste and a nice dirt flavor that most people have been raving about. I use only the oldest and darkest grapes that I have collected from all across Europe. You'll never find anything like this anywhere else on your travels, I can almost assure you."

Pouring a bit into a cup, he handed it over to Imelda and waited for her to give it a sample. 

The most devastating moment of every drive behind the wheel of Enrico's green and black, two-toned 1932 Lincoln KB's V12 was turning the key back off. The rumble of the engine died down, but the fire within the Sicilian burned strong as he looked at an estate that would not be expected to house the rival crosstown winery. Signore Calabrese wasn't exactly sure what he had expected from B'peu Winery. The large estate seemed to fit the part well enough.

"Pensi che questo ingannerà chiunque?" One glance into his rearview mirror reassured Enrico that his fake mustache disguise was still in place. He looked over at DafneCalabrese and grinned as he went about adjusting the non-prescription pair of glasses on his face. The grin quickly turned to a momentary frown as he went crosseyed adjusting the glasses. He just could not understand how someone could deal with something stuck on their face like that. Dafne looked so different in her blonde wig that Enrico momentarily thought the glasses had offended him once more.

"Facciamolo." Enrico had to slap his own hand away from his pack of Lucky Strikes as they made their way into Figment's winery. He wouldn't want to be giving all of his same old tells. The retaliatory scouting excursion had quickly turned into quite the confusing ordeal the moment they stepped foot inside. If anything this place could use a housekeeper. 

The Calabreses made their way towards the tasting room where they heard a voice and some sounds that were unmistakenly the soft slumber of an overpoured patron.

"Ah, scusi signore. We are, eh, traveling tourists sampling the wines of the Americas. This place seems," Enrico searched for a word that wouldn't be an insult to such obvious hard work and dedication, but to say he was surprised with the way things were run here at B'peu would be quite the understatement. 

"This place seems like it might have some of the most unique wines in the world offered." Enrico gulped and pushed down the fake mustache before his grin ripped the glue free from the corner.

Dafne adjusted the wig for the fifth time since they were in the car headed to the competitor winery.  Thankfully the weather was a chilly wintery day because she could imagine all sorts of mishaps should the top be down on their 1932 Lincoln KB.  Disguises were necessary due to the fact the Calabreses wanted to observe the owner of B'peu Winery in his own element without there being any more pressure.  After the last meeting, that Dafne had with Figment, the conversation ended with him needing a tissue to wipe a stray tear, but overall the limited interactions the couple has had recently with Figginius T. Roberts were amusing, to say the least.

She placed a hand over her mouth stifling a chuckle as EnricoCalabrese fidgeted with the eyeglasses now obstructing that handsome face of His.  The mustache would take some getting used to, but Dafne wasn't against that addition to His face.  Once they were inside B'peu winery, Dafne clung to Enrico's arm just a bit tighter than usual as a few unknown aromas overwhelmed her senses.  A soft gulp of air didn't improve her stance, so she accompanied her Husband as He began a tour of the establishment.  Dafne wasn't feeling too well all of a sudden, so she was perfectly happy for Enrico to handle all the conversations.  Her gaze wandered around the place as she attempted to calm the uneasiness that threatened to rise in her throat.

Closed

With a heavy heart, he knew what he must do. Figment wasn't one for mincing words, but gathering up all of his workers, from the grape-smashers and bodyguards, all the way to the pigeons he employed for scouting the area for beavers and other pests who liked to come onto the premises and ruin his stock. 

"Men, women... Columba livia domestica...", making some flapping gestures with his arms he smiles wearily towards his birds before continuing with his little speech, "... sadly we cannot continue B'peu Winery, sadly my grandmother refuses to buy anymore and she was quite honestly keeping us afloat over these past two years." 

While he was getting ready to phrase the rest of his final speech one of his grape stompers rushed over to him and whispered in his ear that visitors had arrived. He hadn't seen any since Imelda came around what felt like months ago, could this be what he needed to turn his whole business around? Before getting ahead of himself, Figment brushed off his jacket and dismissed all of the workers back to their jobs as he'd address them all later-- for now, he had to go speak to his patrons! Rushing over to the tasting room where they stood, he felt something was a little bit off from their set-up, but he couldn't question anyone who could potentially be paying customers.

"Welcome! Welcome!", boisterously he rushed over to the man and woman who looked to be overtaken by his immaculate Winery and quickly he poured them both a glass of what looked to be old enough to be considered wine or at the very least a punchy grape juice. Allowing them to gather their bearings he noticed that the man's mustache seemed to be falling off; most likely because he made sure to keep the tasting room at a sweltering 90 degrees at all times to help keep all of his customers extra thirsty.

"Are you both feeling alright?", pulling out his famous tray of capers he offered them both a light snack while deciding how he should react to the obvious fake get-up that they were both in. Without wanting to be rude, and assuming that perhaps they were just in the witness protection services, he glossed over it for now and continued to speak with them as if nothing was wrong.

"Sadly this is the last day for B'peu Winery, so please take as many as you would like. They're complimentary!"

The sweat beading down Enrico's forehead had to be from the heat and not the thought of drinking the wine. At least, that's what the Sicilian was telling himself as he stared down into the glass now in hand. He raised it to his lips for an excuse to wave off the capers. Before he ever got a taste, his mustache lept away from the scene in hopes of brighter futures. The oversized caterpillar floated around the cup of B'peu wine. Enrico was half-convinced the glue had given way to the adhesive-remover like smell wafting up from the glass's contents. 

"I dare say it is Sunday is it not?" It most certainly was a Friday. Enrico grabbed Dafne's arm before she could sample her own glass. "We only drink the blood of Christ on Sundays of course, signore. This doesn't exactly seem like any mass I've been to." Enrico now took Dafne's glass from her and placed it next to his on the tray of capers. 

"Last day for the winery? Surely there is no shortage of winos in this fair city. I have walked its streets. I could show you customers-a-plenty." Enrico was giving up on his disguise faster than it had given up on him. He stowed the glasses away into his suit jacket and retrieved his pack of Lucky Strikes in their stead. Three pockets later revealed a book of matches for the Calabrese Wine Company that the man put to work.  

"So you mean to say this place will be hitting the market?" Enrico looked around the tasting room with a new set of eyes. This pair of emerald daggers were calm and calculated as they assessed the very walls around them.

"A shame, truly. A bit of friendly competition has always been the driving factor in exceeding our own expectations of ourselves." Enrico took the type of drag from his Lucky Strike that sent little orange tracers racing towards the butt ahead of the pack. He emptied his lungs of more smoke than seemed natural. A room sure to soon smell like an ashtray was the result. 

"You guys having problems with the heater?" Enrico said as he began to loosen his tie.

The disguises weren't working apparently Dafne thought with a frustrated sigh.  All that effort to be incognito, and Enrico's mustache was now swimming in whatever the liquid in the glass was.  The glasses were done for as well, and her Husband was back to Himself lighting His favored Lucky Strikes.  She wanted to laugh, but the room began to spin.  Dafne's head felt like it was twirling round and round as she stood next to EnricoCalabrese.  The wintery weather outside had inspired Dafne to wear the black velvet ensemble, but here inside the winery, she was ready to faint.  It was so stuffy and hot.  Perhaps she needed a drink, but the moment she brought the glass anywhere in proximity to her lips, the smell assaulted her senses so bad that Dafne squeezed Enrico's forearm with such force.  

"Enrico..."

Dafne could only utter the single word softly before she had to make her escape from the winery.  Once outside, Dafne leaned back against the establishment then removed the wretched blonde wig.  A few deep breaths did nothing to stop the sickness that threatened to let loose.  The head of her security detail, Cassidy, was standing nearby, keeping his back to her as Dafne took a few gulps of air.  One glance to the wig almost made Dafne laugh, and she would have if she wasn't feeling so sick.

"Bene, immagino che quella parrucca sia spazzatura ora."

Her words were so softly spoken that Dafne didn't think anyone had heard her until she heard a sound- laughter turned into a cough quickly. She glanced up at Cassidy with slight amusement.

"Enrico si chiederà cosa sia successo. Dovrei tornare dentro."

The quack't'err'd a sound, n'ay sound let to the shiftin' o'ee'z hips. Hips shook left but he went right, star'berd to3 peek't'a'fer he shifted his weight into 'iss kneez. This Mickz knees lead him into an abandon't shop, look'ter'bee just an ol' wine'ry. The USS ZMSG flop't'erDz'ee'o 'ead around lookin' for somethin'. But what was that scent in the air? The daft air that just smell't so luvv'err'ly. But what could it be? And who was callin'uh who? What was in the back? The Mick't'uf't ol' Jalopy'o'Deez'Seas set his cruiser to sniff't'err. With a waddle in his butt and a stump't'runtt, IU7 DD5 U91 open't'uh door in the back. The door led to a set of stairs, down'werdz n'uh portsyde down n' down 'ee went'e'eo'ded.

As he sits into a hop'n'a'skip over the last step, he see's the caskets. A little shimmy that startz wit' 'eez ol' shoulderz n 'ead, dee lad'o'dee Doodlerz ditzy'on'a'dough all the way to the bungholez with his to3z'uh'p n'attemm. The pattern of the windz'wazz'uh shift'er'n and a skee'daddlin. Lucky for the ol' Paddy Wack't on3, he had his numer0 3 in the jalopy of jalopiezZ'uh'wot now? N'ee'od'ed off back upstairs where he hooter't'n'uh'holler'd ferda lassy to come sea the take. And what a swill of a Gal, she came to sea and shorr't'nuff'n did help 'ee'ol i7 back up into the jalopy with all the booze they could'uh carry. 

Arm't robbery lesson 101, plan wh0'feckinn kn03z'wit'this'n'ea'uh'LaD

These fields stretched for miles and miles with no end in sight, the smell of rancid grapes and dried up dog feces which was being used as manure for fertilization acted as a mine field for the B'Peu Winery; this was such a proud and proper winery in its day that the Sassy Peach couldn't help but drop a few tears while walking down one of the many dirt roads that helped the workers get from all over the overly-massive stretch of land.

"Jackson, where are you, Jackson? I need HELP!" the larger man who acted as a handler for the slightly smaller Peach rushed to their aid and helped hoist them up so that they could see above what now was nothing more than a destroyed bush, one of the many snow storms had taken this one out too-- maybe it wasn't smart to have opened in a land with such a variety of climates? That was loser talk, however, because one knew to never question themselves when they were about to do something that could be considered stupid or futile, in fact, the Peach did the exact opposite in those instances and would rush head-first into the project which for some reason never seemed to work out.

"This will be the one. This is it."

"Are you sure? You said that same thing about the winery in the Sahara and the other one in Greenland, can we really stop travelling now to find the perfect "quirky vineyard" as you put it?"

"Yes, I don't think this could get any better. Smell that dog shit and tell me it isn't perfect."

"You've been doing a lot of shit related gags lately, are you feeling alright?"

"Sometimes even I must reach for the short fruit."

"I understand, so what should we do now?"

There was a silence for a moment while the Peach pulled out a slip of paper, on it they quickly wrote down what was to be a deed for the place, seeing as how the owners had died years ago, who would be willing to actually argue if it was the real one or not? After that was written up, his handler slash notary stamped the papers to make them official and the rest was history.

2 Months Later

WELCOME TO THE RE-OPENING OF THE B'PEU WINERY!

Now with Peach Wine

While Peach wine may seem like a cannibalization of sorts, it wasn't actually real peaches at all but a concentrate created in a lab somewhere that was meant to perfectly encapsulate that peach taste. One day this would be how most fruits would make their way into foods, but for now the Sassy Peach was way before their time, yet again. Hopefully it would all pay off.

100 Bottles of Peach Wine - $700

1 Bottle of Peach Wine - $9.99

Yes, it was expensive for today's standards but this was some of the finest and most sought after wine in the entire world, seeing as how no one was making it. The dog shit also really gave it a distinctive taste, and due to the fact that it wasn't a natural fertilizer, most of the grapes were extremely unripen so the grape taste itself was duller than usual, something that was probably really good. Overall, this would be a definite success, and if it wasn't then there were always thousands of other business ventures for them to get into.

The monopoly had begun. First Smackaroo's in Los Angles and now this. Could the peach be stopped?!

Hera visited the winery that had re-opened and found out that it now belonged to SassyPeach . She saw that they were selling peach wine now made with artificial peach flavorings! Although the price was higher than what one would pay for wine nowadays, she was very interested in tasting the wine.

She decided to do a taste test first before buying an entire bottle or maybe an entire crate even. 

"Do I get a sample to taste? Maybe a glass? I want to know what's so special about this wine."

After spending several hours at the public library, which also included several hours of the front desk lady watching his every damn move, seemingly watching, listening to his every breath, waiting for the moment to kick his ass out. Maddix used every ounce of self-control, as limited as it was, to not reach across the front desk and choke the lady out. 

A drink was needed, something was needed to take the edge off. So Maddix set out to find somewhere, anywhere that could possibly help out and that's how he came to find himself at a recently re-opened winery that went by the name "B'peu Winery" that was oddly advertising "Peach Wine"? That was certainly something you didn't see every day. 

Walking inside it seemed like the standard set up except it really did appear that "peach wine" was currently being the only thing being sold. Maddix looked at the sign behind the counter and raised an eyebrow. 

100 Bottles of Peach Wine - $700
1 Bottle of Peach Wine - $9.99

$700 for 100 bottles? Kudos to whoever created it, cashing in. There would undoubtably be someone, somewhere, that would be willing to pay that price but it wouldn't be Maddix today. Why spend that much on something that would more than likely end up smashed over Elliot's head or face? For now Maddix would settle for spending the $9.99 for one bottle that he could try before heading back to Chicago.

Placing a crumpled $10 note on the counter, Maddix asked for one bottle. The person behind counter, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else, none too kindly handed over the bottle and grabbed up the $10 from the counter before going back to ignoring Maddix. Maybe he should've grabbed more bottles, used a few on the person behind the counter, give them a free trip to the nearest hospital.

Before it came to that, Maddix turned away from the counter, headed for the door, opening the bottle, taking a taste test as he walked out the door and back out into Detroit's business district and he was surprised, despite the name, it didn't taste that bad after all. Maybe he would come back after all.

Only time would tell.