Down here, everyone'd think you're blessed had you been born a Buckweed or a McCork. Two of the richest families east of the Mississippi and been that way for generations. Each making millions off their own moonshine and whiskey brands. The competition down here is fierce, but Buckweed Moonshine and McCork Moonshine are the top of the top — and for good reason. If you wanna forget your troubles, nothing does it quicker than Buckweed or McCork moonshine. Shoot, you won't even remember why you were drinking in the first place after a few gulps.
Boone Buckweed had been living the life of any young rich redneck — four wheelin' and trailer parties that could be seen from a mile away with enough booze to fill up two counties! The Buckweed boys were wild, but that don't mean the McCork boys were any better. Fights and drunken hookups were the common theme of these get-togethers and their parties got wilder as they grew out of high school and into their twenties. Now, Boone Buckweed was sittin' pretty with a large trust fund and no obligation to carry on the brewing tradition — until his brother Clyde was killed in a hunting accident.
Clyde blew his own brains out with a rifle while trying to eat peanut butter out the end of it. He wasn't the brightest boy, but he got his degree in business because he was the heir. Groomed him as best they could since he was little, the fool blows his own brains out after a drunken attempt to lick some peanut butter. Why the end of the rifle instead of a spoon is beyond anyone's ability to comprehend, but one could guess the moonshine was extra strong.
The funeral of Clyde is what brought Boone back into town from college, and all the Buckweeds were in attendance. The McCork’s paid a humble visit and if you were clever enough you would know it was not out of sympathy, but out of publicity. Opportunity never passed a McCork without an attempt to paint a better image of faith and holiness. Years of ad slogans involving faith in God and a cool sip of McCork Moonshine will be forever stuck in the heads of everyone like a Kit Kat commercial.
The head of the Buckweed family, John Riggins Buckweed, said a beautiful sermon about his first-born son now laying before him. The tears he held back were genuine. He loved that boy no matter how stupid his decisions were. The rest of the family mourned Clyde as Boone kept sneaking sips from his flask. It was his turn and liquid courage would aid the fool stumbling up to the podium.
"My brother was the best dang son of a bitch I ever knew! He knew how to party hard and love even harder! I'll never be the same without you Clyde..."
Wiping away his tears, Boone chugged what remained in his flask as he stumbled back down to his seat. Many more family members gave their condolences as well as friends of the family. Nearly two hours went by before the Buckweeds finally laid Clyde to rest.
John's wife, Darlene, and their daughters, Mary Beth and Becky, all sat around the living room as he drug Boone’s unconscious self onto the couch.
John poured a bucket of cold water on his head.
"Wake up you worthless son of a bitch! Can't even hold your liquor for your dead fucking brother!"
Boone got up in a drunken stupor soaking wet and began to cry.
"You fucking baby! This ain't no time for them tears Boone! You got a fucking job to do."
"Darlin' please, the poor boy's in mourning!" Darlene hugged her sobbing son.
John paced back and forth before dismissing his daughters and his wife. He pulled up a chair to Boone, who was still sobbing over his brother's death.
"Son, now you are the only male heir to the Buckweed Moonshine. This is gonna be tough."
John explained the history between the McCork and Buckweed families that spanned generations. Long ago, both families agreed that every twenty-five years they would hold a moonshine competition on a land commonly owned amongst the families. No one else besides the head of families and their respective heirs were allowed in attendance due to the brutality of this competition. You see, it was not merely drinking moonshine...but a fight, if you will. Each man would drink the other's moonshine 'til the last drop and typically it would result in a bitter, ugly fight; biting, scratching, all kinds of nasty drunken tactics until a winner was declared. The Buckweed family had lost the last three times and out of shame have yielded to the McCork's growing territories. Each family's moonshine would be their own version of the dangerous 198 proof.
"One-hundred and ninety-eight proof!? Dad, nobody drinkin' that!" Boone's flask fell out of his pocket.
"Clyde had been training for years. It's why he can down a whole bottle of the regular stuff we sell. He was my one hope for victory and now I got you..."
John reached for Boone's flask. "I have to rely on your pansy ass to win now. You ain't going to be drinking no girly sixty proof no more. We are starting your training tonight, we only got two weeks now."
Every morning and every night Boone was forced to drink. A few gulps of 198 proof moonshine is all Boone could muster before blacking out drunk; disappointment written all over John's face each time he had to douse Boone with cold water.
"How's he doin' baby?" Darlene asked as she brought him fresh towels.
"I'd be lucky if he could even walk into the barn, let alone take down Hank McCork. That big ol' bastard can drink a whole keg of this shit."
John rolled Boone over and poured more water on him as he woke up shivering.
"Grab the bottle, Boone."
The day finally arrived like John feared, and Boone...well he had no clue since he had been blackout drunk for two weeks. They drove for over two hours to a barn Boone had never seen before.
"So, I'm supposed to go in there and drink the McCork moonshine?"
"Shut up and focus Boone. We'll explain the rules when we're inside."
Both walked in as Michael McCork and Hank McCork already sat at the table with the bottle ready to be drank. John and Michael went over the rules as Hank looked eager to out drink Boone.
As tradition had it, each family member handed the bottle over to their opponent. Both bit the corks off and began drinking, and the barn began to spin for Boone. But two weeks of blackout drunken training gave Boone a helping hand to his feet. Chugging as much as he could and hoping to not lose his sight, he saw Hank McCork nearly done while he hadn't even made it half-way. A moment of deep inspiration hit him as he shouted, "Dis one…dis one's fur you Clyyyyyyde!" Those were the last words uttered by Boone before he lost consciousness once again.
Bucket after bucket of cold water were poured on him as he twitched.
"You killed our other son, John!" Darlene rocked Boone in desperation.
"He's a strong boy. He's alive." Reaching over with a smelling salt, John rubbed it on Boone's nose.
He woke up vomiting all over his mother's nightgown.
"Oh god damn it, Boone. I just got this night gown!" Darlene stomped out of the room as Boone still saw everything spinning.
"Did I lose again?" Boone muttered.
John began to grin so wide as tears filled his eyes. "I'm so proud of you, you gay bastard." He hugged Boone who looked more confused than drunk.
"Wait what happened?"
John stood up, still smiling as the proudest father.
"Well son, I must say I haven't seen that kind of seduction from any woman in my lifetime." John began to laugh, realizing Boone had no recollection of what happened after his heroic cheers to honor Clyde.
"Well to put it short son...you had Hank on his knees looking like he was trying to suck a golf ball through a garden hose!" Boone stood in anger clenching his fist ready to swing at the next word his father said.
"Now hold on Boone! Don't get all upset about this kind of stuff. Whether you are gay or bisexual or whatever else I don't care. You have restored honor to the Buckweeds son! The first winner in four generations!"
Boone scratched his head, unsure of his own sexuality or even what day it was.
"I got it all on tape too, son." John pulled out his phone and played the video.
The video showed Boone after his heroic cheers to his dead brother. He began to dance. He danced as if he was a cattail swaying in the wind. He slowly took his shirt off as Hank was caught in his trance. Boone stopped the video.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why did you record that?!" Boone tried to delete it before John pulled his phone back.
"Now hold on, stupid… Let me explain. I ain't gonna show this to nobody. You see though son, this right here and your performance gave me leverage of the McCork family."
Boone still looked confused as John continued to clarify.
"You had Hank...well...Hank McCork is now in a homosexual video. The amount of religious bullshit the McCork family preaches about would be in severe jeopardy if this were exposed. I finally got that smug Michael McCork by the balls!"
John hugged Boone again with tears rolling down his eyes. "You made me and Clyde so proud, son. Now go apologize to your mama for throwin' up on her."
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