Chapter 5 of Norma's Homemade Banana Bar

Basement Guy

Basement Guy is also known as B.G., not to be confused with the group BeeGees. I know of this mysterious person because of our common affinity for fermented beverages.

B.G. brews his own Kombucha. I also love Kombucha. But lately he's taken an evil twist. Just yesterday I visited B.G. in the bowels of the Banana Bar. As I entered the basement, a foul odor permeated that dark dank room he calls home.

"B.G., what the heck are you doing now?" I questioned the bearded hermit.

"Ah, N.J., you're just in time to sample my latest creation. Thousand year egg Kombucha."

B.G. thrust a bowl under my nose. A green miasma of sulfuric rottenness hit my olfactory gland.

"What in the name of Satan is that?"

"That, my love, is my newest brew. A rotten egg straight from the hen to the basement. It's been sitting on my desk for about a month. I mixed it with some eye of newt , spit of frog, and hair of goat. Then I let it sit for a few hours. It's just about ready to bottle.
Want a taste?"

I wanted to vomit. "No, but you have fun with that. Gotta run." And run I did, straight out of the basement to the street.

Fresh air never smelled so good.

W/C 223

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