Post #187328 by Basement Kahuna on Sat, Sep 17, 2005 8:30 PM

You have joined the halls of Tiki Vallhalla. Where surely the drunk shall live forever. I knight you Sir Martiki, of Friscoshire. Liege of Sir Joel, of Atlantashire, and servant of King Victor. And now, for the Jigger Creed...... This is my jigger. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

My jigger is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.

My jigger, without me, is useless. Without my jigger, I am useless. I must measure my jigger true. I must pour straighter than the competition who are trying to put me out of business. I must put him out of business before he puts me out of business. I WILL...

My jigger and myself know that what counts in this tiki bar is not the aloha shirt we wear, the noise of our Martin Denny, nor the hell we raise. We know that it is the drinks that count. WE WILL DRINK...

My jigger is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its measuring lines, its accessories, it's spout and it's capacity. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage as I will ever guard my legs, my arms, my eyes and my heart against damage. I will keep my jigger clean and ready. We will become part of each other. WE WILL...

Before God, I swear this creed. My jigger and myself are the defenders of my tiki bar. We are the masters of our competition. WE ARE THE SAVIORS OF POOR SCHMO'S EVERYWHERE WHO HAVE NEVER TASTED A GOOD DRINK.

So be it, until victory is Tiki's and there are no bad drinks, but pure, unadulterated tropical hedonism