Pants On Fire

Within the dimly lit lounge, the bartender slid a flaming drink across the polished oak. “Pants on Fire”, he said with a wink, as if sharing a secret.

It was late, or was it early, hard to tell after a long, liquor fueled evening. Cassie inexplicably found herself knocking on the door of a dark, abandoned building and as she was about to turn away there was a buzz and a click as the door opened. Walking in, she found her way to the bar, sitting on the rail as a neon sign flickered.

She stared at the yellow-blue flame as it grew, then began to subside, unsure what to do. As she raised her eyes to speak, the bartender had disappeared, leaving her in silence. Finally, as the flame burned out with a faint trail of smoke curling upward, her curiosity burned brighter than caution. Eyeing the glowing liquid and rippling surface she took a tentative sip. First came the intoxicating aroma, then warmth, rising to the ultimate crescendo. The heat and sweet that danced across her tongue was designed to ignite more than just a buzz.

Cassie began to smile broadly as the bartender had returned, watching with amusement. Pants on Fire wasn’t just a drink – it was a dare.

Epilogue

When creating a new cocktail there’s only so much you can say until things become repetitive. After more than 100, you run out of adjectives and descriptive phrases, so I decided to write a little fiction. Riffing on a drink literally on fire, I considered several storylines. I thought about politics, teasing with the childhood chant, liar, liar pants on fire, but ultimately going a little darker and ambiguous, leaving it to the reader’s imagination.

Regardless, pants on fire is a delicious, savory drink built upon Arkansas sake’ as the prime ingredient. You can read my story about Origami Sake, made in Hot Springs, HERE. Print