Mob Sorcery 3 - Ch4

Quintus’s chosen meeting spot turned out to be a fancy bar in southern Albion. Vince set up the meeting with only a couple of messages, as the ancient demon responded promptly.

Albion was far more upscale than the usual meeting place in Vince’s experience, as he almost always met the demon downtown or in shadier establishments. A quick Google search suggested Vince might need to buy a suit on the way to the meeting.

“I didn’t think Immanuel had much of a presence on this side of the harbor,” he said.

Fia grunted as she trundled south along Albion’s streets, which were choked with early lunchtime traffic. “In underworld terms? Not really. They dominate the south side of Albion, but it’s all vampires by the waterfront in Albion. But it’s fucking Immanuel. They have their paws all over the country, let alone the city.”

“Fair point.” He inclined his head and then leaned against the window. The old, European-style buildings didn’t exactly fly by given Fia’s safe driving style, but Vince watched them go by anyway. “Figured I’d get a stronger reaction from you.”

“I’m not really surprised Immanuel is trying to steal you back. Hardly a danger if you’re signing the contract with us, plus you can’t do any work for at least a week or two,” she said.

“And after that week or two?”

She gave him a sidelong look and said nothing.

The bar itself sat beneath one of the many skyscrapers that lined the waterfront, and the tower the Lionetti sisters lived in sat only a stone’s throw away. Suited workers packed onto the plaza-like streets, mingling with mages and immortals in clothes that expressed how little they needed employment. Fancy restaurants, cafes, bars, and clubs lined the street, and they attracted patrons of similar status.

While Vince described the meeting place as a bar, it might be best described as a club restricted to Aulfair’s upper crust. Many immortals hailed from time periods where establishments heavily restricted entry, and money could only get somebody so far in a city where the wealthy also bragged about meeting Charlemagne or watching Marie Antoinette get beheaded.

Case in point, when he approached the meeting place, a wiry demon stepped outside to stop him. A crown-like circle of horns rose from the demon’s head. Even Vince felt the magic exuding from the man’s body, and Fia’s ears and tail puffed out as they shot bolt upright.

“I believe you’ve come to the wrong place,” the demon said, his voice oozing with condescension

“I’m here to meet with Quintus. He’s on the second floor,” Vince said without missing a beat, even as Fia gripped his jacket.

The demon frowned and held a hand up to his ear. “The human from the news is here,” he said, speaking in one of the many demonic languages. Vince’s earpiece translated for him. “Check with Hierum.”

Then he crossed his arms and they waited.

The blacked-out windows meant Vince couldn’t even see what was happening inside the club, and the demonic bouncer had closed the door upon stepping out. This club was invite-only. Google hadn’t even listed a menu, assuming the place even served food. The name was something like the Infernalis.

A pair of young mystic foxes walked up behind them, barely Pola’s age if Vince guessed. Both had four white tails and gorgeous pouty faces as they saw the bouncer. One wore a severely cut blue dress that made her lack of underwear very clear, while the other stuck to something Alessia would appreciate, complete with lace.

The bouncer’s eyes flicked to them. “If you’ll allow me a moment, ladies. I’ll verify your membership—”

“We’re here under the Mori booking,” the serious fox said, not even looking at Vince, while the other one winked at him.

“Ah. Then—” The bouncer paused, then blinked. “Right this way, ladies and gentleman.”

Evidently confirmation from Quintus had come through. The demon pushed the doors open with a flick of his fingers and no sign of any incantation, as immortals didn’t need one. A pair of catfolk staff stood just inside and bowed the second the doors opened. One was male and the other female.

“Ladies Mori, this way, please,” the male catfolk said, directing the foxes to one side.

The catgirl gestured Fia and Vince the other way without a word. Both wore old-fashioned waiter uniforms from a century past, which matched the décor.

The club loomed right out of the Victorian era, complete with brass trim, oversized beer pumps on the bar, and upholstery that probably predated Aulfair’s founding. A wall of spirits towered on the far side, was three bottles deep, and required a ladder to reach the top. Fia bit her lip upon spotting it.

“Good stuff over there?” Vince whispered.

“Alessia’s collection is better, but I don’t get to look at it on a wall,” Fia said.

That catgirl looked back at them and blinked at the mention of Alessia. She bit her lip but said nothing.

They reached a cordoned off stairwell in the corner, in a section nobody was seated in. A demon strode down the stairs and waved them up. He looked familiar, and Vince recognized him from past jobs. He’d been the enforcer who gave him his last paycheck after Big Bob and the others tried to betray Quintus.

“Boss is waiting, V,” the demon said.

“Um,” the catgirl said, biting her lip.

The demon stepped out and waved Vince and Fia up the stairs.

Fia’s ears twitched as they rose, and she smirked.

“Something up?” he asked.

“The bouncer at the door might have pinned us as chumps, but the catgirl is smart,” Fia said. “I might get to try some fancy whiskey after all.”

Upstairs, they walked into a moodier, more contemporary establishment. One with more naked wood and steel. Vince expected to see bartenders with thick bushy beards serving craft beers that tasted like somebody had just pureed the hops and emptied them into the keg. The windows possessed a magical overlay that turned the exterior view into a nighttime one.

The much smaller bar up here stood unmanned, with no hipster bartenders in sight. A couple of suited enforcers sat on stools opposite the stairwell where Vince and Fia entered, but they barely spared them a glance. One pointed at the corner, away from the bar.

Quintus sat in a corner, dominating the nearly empty establishment despite his apparent age. He wore a vest and dark red business shirt which shimmered in the warm light of the bar. His hair cascaded down his back in a loose silver ponytail. He’d laid his suit jacket on the lushly upholstered booth seat beside him, while his burning eyes focused on the laptop before him.

The ancient demon glanced up at Vince and beckoned him over with a single gnarled finger. Even without using the mental magic stored in the cane sticking out beneath his suit jacket, Quintus still emanated a powerful presence.

On the way over, Vince spied one more demon in the room. A woman sat at the bar, mindlessly scrolling through her phone.

Vince called her a woman because he had no clue what race she might be from. A single horn jutted out from the right side of her head, but she had black hawk wings, cloven feet, two bushy wolf’s tails, and fox ears. She looked like some sort of beastly abomination right out of a movie—the cheap kind that intentionally mixed up demihumans and demons to please a certain demographic.

Fia nudged him in the side with an elbow, and the two of them pulled up chairs opposite Quintus.

“Have I gone up in the world to be worthy of meeting you here, instead of in dingy warehouses and nightclubs?” Vince asked.

Quintus continued to tap away on his laptop, although he reached out with one hand to pick up his drink. It was a tall amber cocktail of some sort, and magic arced through it and along the steel umbrella garnishing it.

“Yes,” Quintus said flatly. “Does that bother you?”

Vince did a poor job hiding his annoyance, while Fia sat motionless. Whatever reason she’d chosen to come along with him into the club, it wasn’t to join in while he poked the bear.

Quintus’s lips quirked upward and he snapped his laptop shut. “You’ve gone up in the world, Vincent. Any mutt can bite the hand that feeds them and find some pretty young heiress to take them in. The difference is that you’ve helped that heiress take a chunk out of Houou, embarrassed the police force, stopped a famous assassin, and even repelled a corporate attack whose provenance stumps even my colleagues.”

“So you’ll offer me a 2% pay increase next time I take one of your jobs?” Vince asked, forcing himself to be expressionless.

“That joke would land better if you actually knew what inflation was.” Quintus smiled mirthlessly. “It’s closing on 4%, for reference.”

“Do you usually match inflation?”

The demon merely chuckled, then gestured behind them. “I should introduce you to Ashley. You’ve been fortunate to avoid working with her in the past.”

Fia’s hand snapped up and closed around a wrist only inches above Vince’s shoulder. He turned and saw the bestial demon from earlier standing behind him. Given the place had wooden floorboards, it was quite a feat for her to sneak up on him without making a noise.

“Cute, wolfie. Now let go before I rip your arm clean out of its socket,” Ashley said, her dark green eyes gleaming with menace.

A few seconds passed, and both women’s tails lashed the ground. Fia let go and Ashley stepped to the side of the table. The demon—at least, Vince assumed she was one—gave Vince an assessing look.

“Ashley is one of my lieutenants,” Quintus said.

“Your only lieutenant, if that’s your standard.” Ashley flicked her long black bangs over her horn.

Like the rest of her, her hair was a confusing mess. Her bangs were black, but she had long silver hair done up in a side ponytail that covered up what Vince guessed to be an impressive bust.

Quintus ignored Ashley’s outburst. “Think of Ashley as roughly equivalent to Eva in Immanuel’s hierarchy, except that she works in outsourcing instead of logistics.”

Eva was the name Quintus used for Salome, although Vince would never be crazy enough to call her by it after she cursed him for using it once.

“Is that where you officially work? Outsourcing?” Vince asked, amused.

“We use a variety of names, but it’s a fitting one. My responsibility as an executive is to provide enforcers to Immanuel that handle a wide variety of jobs and ensure our less-legal business dealings go smoothly.”

Vince was pretty sure Quintus did more than that, as the ancient demon appeared to hold overall responsibility for Immanuel’s underworld dealings. But Vince didn’t know Immanuel well enough to say for sure where the demon sat in the executive structure, other than that he wasn’t at the very top.

What he did know was that Quintus was high up enough to be Immanuel C-Suite in all but name. So either the demon was on the wrong side of internal politics, or his position required him to stay out of such a public position.

“In any case, Ashley will be your point of contact in Immanuel in the coming months,” Quintus continued. “I’ve long taken a personal interest in you, and ensured she couldn’t sink her claws into you, but with the city in the state it is my attentions are being called elsewhere. It’s for that very reason I’m glad you chose to meet with me, rather than force me to send Ashley to drag you here.”

Ashley gave Vince a toothy smile, revealing a set of teeth that suggested she was a selfish lover. “Ciao.”

Fia snorted, and her tail batted against Vince’s back. “If you’re Italian, I’m La Lupa herself.”

“If you want to try mothering an entire country of wolffolk, I’m happy to join in,” Ashley purred while tapping her long, claw-like nails along Vince’s shoulder. “I understand V here already claimed at least one of your bosses. Maybe even both? Bet he can go for days.”

Baring her teeth in response, Fia glared at Ashley, who merely grinned back.

Quintus rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Enough. You’ve been introduced. Make yourself useful and get my guests some drinks, Ashley.”

The demon lieutenant shot Quintus an annoyed look, before spinning on one heel and striding away.

“Get the puppies some drinks,” Ashley snapped at the enforcers near the stairwell. “Make them good or I’ll feed them some Ambrosia made with your souls.”

Vince hadn’t heard of Ambrosia being made of demon souls, assuming demon’s even had souls, and doubted he’d find out if it was true. The enforcers shot to their feet and scrambled downstairs while Ashley returned to lazing at the bar.

Yeah, Vince had definitely been coddled by Quintus until now. Ashley seemed the sort to take one look at a puny human like him and rip his head off for giggles.

Looking back at Quintus, Vince found the demon leaning back and assessing him with a silent gaze.

“I doubt you’re that surprised by what’s happened,” Vince said. “Your cryptic nonsense the other night when Nina scared you off turned out to be true. You knew Knightsgate had reinforced the Yakuza and were here to take a swing at Houou.”

“There’s a step—a long step—between knowing that several powerful immortals had taken over the local Yakuza branch and that such immense resources would be thrown at the Lionettis so rapidly,” Quintus said. “Let alone that you’d slap the foxes away so easily. You’re used to seeing me make moronic enforcers dance to my whims, but if the world were so easy to predict and control then the Roman Republic would still stand.”

Vince frowned. He had to admit that made him feel uneasy for reasons he struggled to elucidate.

For his entire life, Quintus had stood as a figure so far above him and the work he conducted that any appearance by the demon was like a deity descending from the heavens to intervene in Vince’s life. It had always been safer to assume that Quintus knew literally everything happening in the underworld than not, and that had been true lately.

The ancient demon even knew about the Yakuza’s moves before anybody else.

Hearing him admit that the situation had spiraled beyond even his expectations stirred a deep worry within Vince.

“I take it that’s why Immanuel had Bastet flaunting her magic on the news this morning,” Vince said, trying to ignore his nervousness. “Does any of your work have to do with the fallout from that little stunt?”

Quintus gave a deep laugh and slugged back a healthy amount of his cocktail. “Oh, no. The FCC is going to fine us. That will truly trouble us and our many lawyers.” The demon sneered. “Vincent, please. Immanuel conducts literal hostile takeovers of its competitors. Bastet’s under investigation for turning the CEO of JPMorgan Asakawa into a husk. Justice is cheap. Literally. There isn’t a judge I can’t buy with merely my weekly salary, let alone my other income sources.”

“Uh huh.” Fia crossed her arms and ignored Quintus’s look of annoyance. “If Immanuel’s so all-powerful, why let Davis become president? He’s fucking everyone.”

“I direct you to my earlier statement,” Quintus drawled. “President Davis was an oversight. Although one that says much about how little humanity has changed. He and his party romped home to a landslide victory merely by accusing their opponents of literal witchcraft. The only thing that has changed since the Salem witch trials is that we all know magic is real, and now it’s the excuse for people to blame for their problems instead of facing reality.”

“So, you’re not doing anything.” Fia leaned back in her chair, and Vince didn’t miss the frustration in her tone. “I don’t like you demons, but you’re literally the reason Aulfair is even a state. You took over the damn presidency back in the 70s. Why not do it again? Or have you lost your touch?”

Quintus’s eyes flared with light, and Ashley glanced over. “The reason we do nothing is both that we don’t have to, and that acting publicly would be counterproductive. The economy is limping along, Wall Street is down 20% from its highs with no change in sight as funds flee for the Nikkei and DAX indexes, Europe and Japan are enacting retaliatory tariffs over catalyst and magical trade restrictions, and food prices will spike if Davis starts destroying crops ‘contaminated’ with the magical supplements companies like Kaziern have been supplying.”

“And what if he wins anyway?”

“He won’t.” The demon shrugged. “Too much money is being funneled against him, and while there are always those who will refuse to admit they were wrong or who benefit from others failing, Aulfair’s elite retain immense influence. Alessia Lionetti herself is even assisting us with her family’s connections.” His eyes glittered at Fia’s look of shock. “And should Davis win, it’s only a few more years. It’s always the darkest before dawn, and we’re buying up businesses across the country at the fastest rate in decades.”

Fia glowered at the demon, but remained silent.

“I take it you’ve done this before,” Vince said.

“Democracy likes to think it’s a new system, but I cut my teeth during the fall of the Roman Republic,” Quintus said. “The plebians tried to change the system to favor themselves and the Optimates elected Sulla as dictator and asked him to massacre their political opponents. Nothing changed for me through that instability, save for when Caesar crossed the Rubicon decades later with La Lupa backing him.”

“Back the wrong horse, did you?” Fia asked bitterly.

“A lot of demons did.” Quintus inclined his head. “But I was young enough to slip away and let La Lupa collect the heads of the demons and senators who made themselves targets. Business as usual resumed shortly afterward, as you well know.” He smirked. “So long as sin exists, demons are always there to reap it. And humanity is very good at cultivating sin. Even your precious She-wolf never tried to stomp us out entirely.”

Vince opened his mouth to ask Quintus about La Lupa. In his mind, the mythical She-wolf stood as a deity of sorts, and the way the ancient demon spoke of her and her ability to drive out the demons in Rome only supported the idea.

His attempt was interrupted by footsteps behind them. The catgirl server from earlier came up the steps with the two enforcers behind her. She carried a platter with three drinks and some fancy tapas that Vince struggled to describe, which made him suspect the plate cost as much as a dinner in most restaurants.

“Lord Hierum,” the server said, bowing to Quintus as she delicately placed his cocktail next to his half-empty one. “Mister Keys. Miss Ascani.”

Vince blinked at the unfamiliar name, before realizing it must be Fia’s.

The catgirl placed a golden beer in front of him, and it came in an oddly shaped glass with a logo on it. Fia’s was more impressive, as she received a long wooden board that contained her drink. A tulip-shaped glass in the middle contained her whiskey, with a small carafe of water to the side and a metal bucket with ice cubes on the other.

“Um…” Fia hesitated.

The catgirl said something in Italian, and Fia’s eyes widened. Vince didn’t understand a word, but the glowing expression on the wolfgirl’s face suggested she’d been told how expensive the whiskey was. Afterward, the server flitted away.

“I take it you like our range of spirits?” Quintus asked.

“It’s impressive,” Fia admitted. “Although…” She stopped herself.

The demon inclined his head and silently sipped his cocktail.

“I take it the whiskey is expensive?” Vince asked.

“The tip alone I’d be expected to pay for this could buy me an entire bottle of the good stuff,” Fia admitted. “About the tip—”

“The tips are included in the prices here,” Quintus said. “It simplifies everything, especially with a clientele that often… Forgets. We can’t retain quality staff if they’re not paid as expected. I’ll cover the bill.”

“I think the cost of these drinks is more than you’ve paid me for some jobs,” Vince said. He sipped his beer and nodded. “I don’t know where this is from, but it’s better than a lot of what they serve at the Prefect’s Lounge.”

“It’s Belgian. Much of the clientele here have a preference for Asian and European beverages and food. And, like I said before, you’ve gone up in the world. The fact I’m spending like this merely to speak with you should say enough.”

“No job offer?” Vince resisted the urge to smirk.

“Not after yesterday.” Quintus finished off his first cocktail and sighed, looking out the window.

Silence followed. Fia broke it with an appreciative hum as she sipped her whiskey, then added a drop of water from her carafe. She acted more like Nicki than her usual taciturn self.

“I understand you met with the Yakuza’s new kumicho,” Quintus said.

“Mei Suwa, yes,” Vince said, curious if her name would elicit a reaction.

Quintus merely nodded. “A dangerous woman, indeed. If you’d met her in any other circumstance, I’d have arranged to meet you with succubi on standby.”

Vince’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“An eight-tailed fox as duplicitous and dangerous as Suwa could easily tear you apart at the most fundamental level and become you, fooling all but those capable of working with souls themselves,” Quintus said. “Should your employer desire to meet with her, I recommend taking extensive precautions.”

“Yet you think I’m fine?”

“Yes.”

“Is it because of my unusually powerful core of magic?” Vince asked, his expression like stone. “Or whatever you might call it yourself?”

Fia froze, whiskey glass pressed against her lips. Her eyes widened as she stared at him.

Quintus swirled his drink and met Vince’s gaze. “Is that what she called it?”

“So you do know about it.”

“Of course.” Quintus gave a dark chuckle. “You’ve enjoyed Eva’s comforts, Vincent. One doesn’t penetrate a succubus without being penetrated in return, in at least a spiritual manner.”

“Thanks for the mental image,” Vince said flatly.

“You have a reserve of magic within your body well beyond most humans in history, even if you’re incapable of using it appropriately.”

“Uh huh. Is this the part where you tell me you have no clue where and why I have all this magic?”

Quintus steepled his fingers. “Even if I knew, do you think I’d tell you for free, Vincent? Knowledge is power. As such, it comes with a price.”

“Which is?”

Fia looked between the two, and bit her lip the moment Vince spoke.

“For now, nothing,” Quintus said. “Perhaps Suwa said the same, but your affliction is typically one that comes from an external source. Merlin gained his from dragons. Abe no Seimei from a mystic fox. Solomon made a deal with us. The list goes on, but every instance of humans drawing on magic beyond what their kind should comes from those with the power to grant it.”

“Oh. So I might actually secretly be a dragon, still. Or at least, supported by one,” Vince said drily.

“Perhaps. I’d suggest you’re too young, however,” Quintus said. “This conversation is amusing, but irrelevant. You wanted to know about a job? Ashley will approach you should I need one, but I suspect it will be after Christmas. The crackdown following yesterday’s attack will scare our competitors into hiding for some time, securing our smuggling routes, and Christmas is always quiet. Focus on your contract with the Lionettis, avoid doing anything foolish with any foxes, and avoid dying. That would be a waste.”

The demon raised his glass, and Vince frowned.

“Is that a dismissal?” he asked. “Although I didn’t think you’d really care if I died.”

“The most annoying time for birds to steal your harvest is when it’s just about ripe,” Quintus said. “You can remain in the club until you finish your drinks. I’ll even allow you to enjoy lunch here, if you wish. On me. They’ll arrange a table for you downstairs.”

Fia looked pointedly at her whiskey.

Quintus caught the meaning. “So long as you maintain a human-like tolerance to alcohol, you may have another.”

“Humans can drink a lot sometimes,” Fia said.

“Should we test that?” Ashley called out.

Fia spun and glared at the demon lieutenant.

With Quintus’s dismissal, Vince and Fia went downstairs. The catgirl from earlier met them at the bottom.

“Lunch?” Vince asked.

“I’m not saying no to an offer from Quintus Hierum of all people,” Fia said. “Especially here.”

The catgirl led them to a private table in a corner, away from the other patrons. Probably because of how casually they were dressed. Although Vince wondered whether members would be turned away no matter how lazily they dressed.

Wasn’t part of the appeal of being a rich bastard that you could dress and act however you wished?

The menu certainly was exclusive to rich bastards. The prices were in small print, and everything cost way too damn much. Most of the menu looked way too pretentious for him, but the steaks looked appealing if somebody else was paying for them.

“I’m not going to question you about all that, especially as I bet they’re eavesdropping,” Fia said as she went over the menu. “But what’s the magic core shit about?”

“You know how I can drink lots of energy drinks and be fine, and bounce back from overdosing on infusions?” he asked, and Fia nodded. “Well, apparently I have some unknown core of magic in my body that’s supplying me with magical energy. Except that’s all it does. I can’t bend steel or anything.”

“And something put that core in you,” Fia said.

“According to Quintus. Although Mei implied the same. I don’t recall ever meeting any ancient dragons, though.”

“Yeah, I doubt they’d let you remember.”

They ordered their food and more drinks. Vince stuck with a filet mignon, but added several sides to ensure he got a substantial meal. Fia went with duck tortellini and a soup.

The meal was exquisite, as he had expected. Especially knowing he didn’t have to pay for it.

Of course, Fia made the real price known after they left and the catgirl waved them out the door.

“You realize Quintus isn’t going to accept ‘no’ the next time he asks you to work for him?” Fia said as they wandered back to her car.

The streets remained as busy as before, although the office workers had vanished, leaving mostly just the socialites and sorcerers to dally about. They made Vince look as poor as he used to feel. Fia as well, as she’d eschewed her designer clothes for once, although she didn’t bat an eye at the passersby.

“I gathered,” Vince said. “Ashley was there to intimidate me. Pretty clear carrot-and-stick approach. He schmoozed me with free drinks and food, while being surprisingly approachable, while Ashley’s the big stick who will threaten to rip my arms off and beat me to death with them if I don’t work for Immanuel when they ask.”

“I suspect she’ll rip my arms off and beat you to death with them, actually,” Fia said bitterly. “I do wonder how you and Nina would handle a girl like her. Quintus backed down when Nina flexed her muscles.”

“Good question. I’ll ask Nina, as I don’t have a good grasp of Ashley or, well, any of Immanuel’s corporate enforcers.” Vince stopped in the middle of the street and rolled his shoulders. “But you have a point no matter what.”

“Which is?” She eyed him.

“I can’t keep coasting on my old skills and strength. I’m not a wild card who can surprise people by pulling out my dragon dong and slapping them in the face with it,” he said, ignoring the giggles of some passing girls. “It’s time to buckle down and train properly. If things are going to be quiet for the next month or so, especially with Yakuza help, then that’s time I need to spend becoming stronger and learning new spells.”

Fia nodded. “That I can agree with, because I’ve felt the same way. I couldn’t do shit against Juliet, and things only got worse from there. And I think you know somebody who can help us in that regard.”

“Two somebodies,” Vince said.

“I’m not talking about the big lion who can school both of us. I mean training aids.” Fia locked eyes with him. “I think it’s time to pay Ally another visit and lay down some cash. You can work out whatever drama you need to over the Yakuza shit while I go on a shopping spree.”

- - - - -

Commentary: Lots I could talk about in this chapter.

Immanuel and Quintus make their returns after being quiet for almost all of Book 2, so I wanted to remind readers that they're big players and their influence extends well beyond Aulfair. Vince has moved beyond being a mere thug and he's now being treated differently, which comes with implied threats. The political stuff is just there as a backdrop, although I imagine a few people will enjoy the Roman references and alt history stuff.

Fia's a bit pushy in the scene, especially after wilting when facing Quintus in Book 1. It's partly because she wilted that she's pushing, as she's feeling a bit insecure.

Finally, the drinks, which are clearly the most important part. Alcohol plays a big role in pretty much all my books, partly because I like it, which seems to throw off people who don't drink (I'd say it's because I'm Australian, but every country I've visited has a drinking culture of some form). In this case, the wanky whiskey board is how I've had nice whiskeys served in a few places, including a steakhouse. Whereas the beer is just how it's served in Europe. My understanding is that if the establishment doesn't serve the beer in the brewery's own glassware, it's probably shit.