The following is a fictional account. All photographs contain models and mockups and a lot of water. This document should be used for informational purposes only.

Our author wishes to remain anonymous and shall be known only as "Charlie Bubba". Both the author and the House of the Rising Sun would encourage anyone seeking to make moonshine to get professional assistance in doing so as there's lots of room for error--error which could lead to permenant organ damage or even death. The author painstaking researched the subject for several months before embarking on his "task".

Everything you'd need to be able to make hootch in the comfort of your own home (minus the still, of course).

It was Chico, maybe at the infamous "White Trash" party where Grampa pulled out a small preserve jar of clear fluid. It smelled awful, and being from Grampa made me instantly suspicious. "What the hell is this?" I asked.

"Drink it," said Grampa.

"What is it Grampa?" I asked. I'd long since learned that one never drinks what Grampa offered without question.

"Well," he said with an impish gleam in his eye, "that there is gen-u-ine bathtub gin." As bad as it smelled, it tasted worse. It tasted like turpentine and burned all the way down. "Is this gonna make me blind or retarded?" I rasped.

Grampa just laughed.