Wine so charismatic, you might just worship it.

Hail Wine.

Emancipate us from mundane.

Hail Wine.

Redeem us from agitation.

"Hey, uh, Master Ronuld, I have some questions about this, uh, organization."

"Sure, Dregory. I know you’re a mere newcomer to our family. Why, you’re only a Level 3 Chardonnay! You have a long way to go."

"Yeah, not sure what that means. Listen, Master Brumbee told me we’re stockpiling wine for ‘the big day’ and I was just wondering what exactly that means.”

"Oh, my dear child-"

"I’m 42."

"-you’ve not heard about the big day?"

"No."

"Well, here in the Sovereign Order of Complete Fermentment and Destiny, our Manifesto of Totally Sane Objectives dictates that we prepare for the Infinite Dinner Party."

"Hoookay. And, uh, where is that gonna be, precisely?"

"Oh you silly billy. It’s on Kepler 22b."

"I’m sorry. You mean … the planet. That one planet that is 600 light years away."

"It’s habitable!"

"It’s kind of far."

"Fledgling Dregory, I am concerned by your skepticism! I’m starting to think don’t want to join your new family in an endless banquet in outer space!"

"Yeah, I just … maybe it would be best if I, uh … wait, is that a bottle of the 2013 CULT Blanc that Matroness Marrilyann is carrying over there?"

"Sure is, Fledgling Dregory. And I’m pleased to say we’ve also got some of the CULT Cab stocked in our Cellar of Absolution."

"Hm. Say, how’s the weather on Kepler 22b this time of year?"

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