For years I've been debauching myself to the sweet taste of Captain Morgan Spiced rum. There was a point in my early 20's when I could recall the capn's back story verbatim from the back of the bottle. (Which is no longer on the bottle, but for those of you who don't remember, he was born to wealthy welsh merchant parents, & left home at a young age to pursue a life of adventure.)
Vodka had been kind to me, Whiskey and I have had some rough times, but the cap'n has never, never steered me wrong, sure, there's been some hijinks, shenanigans, and once he even got me deported, but we were always able to reconcile our differences. Then one day a new challenger appeared on the scene; Admiral Nelson. There was no doubt in my mind the admiral was intended to challenge the capn's spot in my heart as reigning champion of rums.
The bottle was similar, the rich amber color nearly indistinguishable, and more importantly, the mascots were similar, but maintained a stance of indisputable opposition. Yes, the admiral does technically outrank the captain, but that's of little consequence to your average rum drinker. You may notice, the captain has a sweet mustache, whereas the admiral has a jaunty eye patch. Yes, jaunty. If you'll look closely, you'll notice that both the captain and the admiral are wearing not one but TWO CAPES EACH. This makes it tough to call, but the Captain wins by a narrow margin for having racing stripes on his cape, and the good sense not to wear hot pants pirating.
This time the Admiral comes up aces. The captain sells for about $13, whereas the Admiral retails for around $10 on average. At these prices neither one is even close to top shelf, and that $3 i save with the admiral equates to a whole lot of tacos. Never underestimate the value of a taco in the pocket.
A taste test was clearly inappropriate, as I have always considered myself an uncultured savage. I have no taste for fine whiskey or fancy cigars. I don't appreciate a well cooked steak, or a slow-roasted joint of pulled pork. I smoke a pack a day, so now I mainly eat for texture, and most flavors are only a dim memory. Besides, its goddamn rum, and I'm there for the drunk...
The quality of "the drunk" is an abstract concept, and thus difficult to quantify. I decided to settle this the way any real man resolves a deep seated conflict, with a game of battleship. We briefly considered buying an actual battleship game, but we realized with all those little pieces, someone was bound to lose an eye, choke, or start a plastic fire. For safety, we went with www.sinkmybattleship.com. I was to represent the Captain, due to our longstanding association. My opponent, would be the Admirals Champion. After the sinking of two ships, things got hazy. The battle was eventful but sloppy, (as alcohol based challenges often are) and I regret to say that little is remembered. The Captain was the victor by a narrow margin, thereby forever sealing his fate as the king of all maritime rums.
The morning after:
After spending a night with both the captain and the admiral, I came to the same conclusion. They both leave you feeling like a bag of crushed assholes, although with the admiral, slightly more so.
Also, a barrel of dicks:
(Did you really think I'd spend all that time drawing captain Morgan with no potential for comedic payout?)