Wonderfuse News

The compelling attraction of grilled cheese offerd by Flaketown - despite a gruelling wait for an unkown level of sandwich - leads to long lines and restless Burners. Enter Atom Glambert and the dubious booze known as Mallort. You have to be able to wrap your head around seeing someone kneeling, having said mysterious booze poured into their upturned maw followed by, wait for it, a generous sprinkle of parmesan cheese. It should be noted that said mallort is pizza flavored. No shit. Like a baby bird receiving sustenance from its mother, but higher proof. Having seen various types of tortuous shots, including the infamous Tijuana head shake and the team spectacle of Shot Skis, this was untrodden ground. The reactions from this, ah, gift were varied. From mid disbelief to grimaces of horror, there were surprisingly few negative takes, and not a single spit take.

Never one to shrink from in-depth reporting, and in the spirt of Gonzo journalism, your intrepid correspondent dutifully knelt in front of Atom Glambert and received the Mallort Sacrament. A surprising, complicated and mildly troubling cascade of flavors followed, at the end of which was found a perfectly acceptable if not downright tasty libation. When asked by the benefactor of this gift for judgement - waited for with unwarranted level of interest by nearby spectators - the answer had to be "Two thumbs up".

When asked why the gift - or infliction depending on your experience - of this outlandish concoction of unsuspecting grilled cheese seekers, Atom Glambert replied "I saw a need and a captive audience. I don't even camp here."

Object lesson: don't be afraid to wait in line and blessings take many forms.