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From a fake radio ad I heard years ago:
The American Cowboy. Tough. Determined. Smelly.
He settled the West with just a horse, a gun and a whole bunch of beer. Our beer. Zeldenschlock Beer. When Pat Garrett gunned down Billy The Kid, they were both filled with our beer. When Custer confidently rode into the worst ambush in U.S. military history, he'd just polished off a carton of Zeldenschlock ponies. Now, you too can enjoy the recipe laid down by our father*, Papa Zeldenschlock.
Yes, even though it's harder to make beer this way -- off the back of a chuck wagon from ingredients we found in a cow pasture -- we still do it because, well, we're stubborn. Stubborn and backward and, like Papa, just a little loco. But that's how you get when you're out on the prairie, all alone, with just a horse, a gun and a whole bunch of beer. Our beer. Zeldenschlock Beer.
Enjoy a great tradition of the Old West, gettin' drunk and shootin' up the place, with Zeldenschlock Beer.
* It should be "founder," but I didn't feel like rerecording it.