The Baliff: Hear ye, all rise! The Honorable Judge Romerican presiding.

[sound of murmurings and the fumbling for a gavel]

TB: Please be seated. [pause] Be seated, please. [pause] Luaţi loc!

[pounding of a gavel overtakes indignant gasps]

R: Ladies and gentlemen, we are faced with the grave and somber task of identifying what vile concoction ranks as the second worst Romanian beer. I have arraigned this tribunal today because we have cause to believe the culprit may have been unmasked based on reports from the field. Now, before we begin, I’ll take this moment to go through the motions and remind each of you gathered here of my vast and irrefutable experience in the complex field of Brewski Tastery which has caused this beard to grow past my knees and turn white. Yes, I am long in the tooth of maltishness and hoppification, o ye of little sophistication. It is in this role as your better, that I alone shall pass sole judgement over the fate of the forthcoming beer’s enduring reputation. With the formalities, out of the way: who is person bringing the charges?

One Man Invasion: Eu sunt, your honor.

[judge slides Oakleys down nose a few centimeters and peers out over the lenses directly at the prosecution, noting his apparent sanity and the trusty sidearm tucked in leather]

R: Aşa. Proceed, domnule.

OMI: In good faith and relative sobriety, I stand before this tribune to declare that the worst beer in Romania is Noroc!

[a little over half the crowd bursts out in cheers as the gavel is pounded again]

R: Order, order! I remind you, good sir, that the worst beer in Romania has already been judged and sentenced to eternal infamy. I’ll therefore instruct you not to contradict the findings of this tribunal court and rephrase your statement.

OMI: Hmmm. [pause] Ah, well, then in that case, I suppose I came here to say that Noroc sucks. Badly. Easily the second worst beer in Romania.

R: Very well. Do we have any witnesses to corroborate this accusation?

Bogdan: Da! It sucks because it’s made in another town. Everyone knows that Beer X from Oraşulmeu is better than Noroc.

R: Sometimes, it’s six of one and a half dozen of the other. Me intelegeţi? Now, if you are quite finished…

B: Dar, Noroc is not the local beer from my town.

R: Next!

Magdalena: Oh! Oh! [waving hand frantically] My cousin’s friend’s sister’s neighbor’s father works down at the laundry detergent factory in Ramnicu Valcea and he said that the manager talked to a travelling umbrella salesman from Arad who knew a restaurant owner in Satu Mare who once told him about a lady who used to encourage her husband to drink Noroc because he told her she was fat and hurt her feelings and that’s why she wanted him to go blind from drinking that awful Noroc stuff. And she fed him paint chips, too. And he went blind. I heard all about it.

R: Anyone else?

American Tourist: Uh, yeah, dude. I, like, have something to say or whatever. ‘Cause it was, like, totally April Fool’s Day and stuff just, like, the other day or whatever, right? Yeah, so me and my buddy Dave… man, he’s such a dumbass… but, like, yeah, so… uh… oh! Yeah, dude, he like totally poured me, like, this beer and stuff because he knew I was thirsty from walking all around the dusty Astra neighborhood when we got lost because Dave was, like, reading the map all wrong or whatever. And, like, yeah, I drank it and it tasted kinda like how, you know, like, if you combined, like, Corona with, like, Coors, and then like put rat poison in it and stuff. Or whatever. You know, dude? Like, totally. It was mad rank and shi-

[banging of the gavel]

R: I think we understand what you’re trying to say there, dude. Check it out, y’all. With all this evidence, it is time to gather some testimony from the accused directly. Şi acum, eu beau o bere Noroc.

[sound of a bottle opener and the glug-glug of pourage (and not porridge)]

R: Hmm… say! That’s pretty crispy and pretty hoppy!

[the crowd erupts in riotous anger and the judge nearly spills his beer, but not quite, in the rush to seize and bang his gavel]

R: Order, order, you nebun people. Of the {number removed under 5th Amendment} varieties of beers I’ve had during my career, I can readily determine that Noroc does not and will not qualify as the second worst beer in Romania.

OMI: Man, that’s some bulllllshi-

R: One more outburst like that and you’ll be removed from the courtroom! Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to determine the full sucktitude of Noroc, but one sticla isn’t enough sampling. Someone run around the corner and pick up a doi-litru.

And, so, the rest of the play was lost to antiquity. According to the oral traditions of our ancestors, it was acknowledged that when drank warm, Noroc seemed to impart an inclassifiable aftertaste. And yet it was determined that when cold, Noroc exhibited a rather good hoppy taste much better than the plain offering from Silva, Ursus, Cuicaş and any number of Romanian beers. Ultimately, it was decreed that Noroc was easily the best of cheap Romanian beers and found to be “quite okay” in greater world of inexpensive beers. If the legend is to be believed, it is said that Romerican himself voluntary drank Noroc on a number of occasions after this event took place.

I’m sure you all wonder one thing: How shocked and angry was the Romanian mob? Click below to find out.

This entry was posted on Monday, April 10th, 2006 at 11:22 am and is filed under Food. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.