"Give me flavor, not bathwater!" cried Cyrus Black, pounding the table. "Give me exotic starting grains and six seasonal flavors a year. Give me locally-sourced ingredients and rustic advertising. Give me limited-run, small batch ales precisely in tune with market tastes and, oh why not,
age them in OAK."
His eyes glittered through his horn-rims.Ramesh could sense the ardor washing off him in waves.
"Give me HOPS," he wailed.
How about seven?" Ramesh asked him, leaning forward.
"You have to dream bigger," Ramesh said, "Seven. Eight. Nine. Twelve. As many seasonal flavours as you like."
"Abhe kutthe, he's pulling your leg," James rolled his eyes, "Can't you tell?"
Ramesh grinned at the way Cyrus' face fell, "Others won't be as honest as I am. Your first lesson on business in India: don't show them your enthusiasm. Play it cool."
Fresh out of college and ready to set the world on fire, James Puttar and Cyrus Black set out to revolutionize India’s stagnant beer industry, monopolized exclusively by Raja beers, a bland and tasteless beer manufactured by House of Black, owned by none other than Cyrus’ parents. Joined by Parth, friend and not at all awkward third wheel since their days at Campion, they start their own brewery dedicated to craft brews - The Stag, Dog and Rat - to take on the evil money guzzling corporation that is House of Black.
Brewing isn’t easy and it certainly isn’t cheap, but the mysterious and enterprising Mr Ramesh Loopin seems to find all the right ingredients at just the right prices for them. Odd? James and Parth think so, but Cyrus laughs off their concerns, there is nothing, after all, you can’t do, with a little bit of clever bargaining on the side.
(And Mr Loopin - Ramesh, call me Ramesh - is so very charming.)
(But we’re not going to talk about that.)
But there’s lots that even Cyrus admits baffles him about the secretive Mr Loopin. Where does he disappear every month and why? What dark secret is he hiding up his sleeve that he won’t tell Cyrus? What does it have to do with a skeevy politician who dines with Cyrus’ parents every week? And why does everything the three friends turn up somehow link up to the upcoming elections? Is Ramesh even who he says he is?
Is this, this thing, Cyrus and Ramesh have even real or is it nothing more than one of the enigmatic Mr Ramesh’s many masks?
Walter: What I did… was inexcusable… barbaric. The collateral damage has been extensive. But know that we had noble goals. We believed that our world needed guardians, protectors, that you children would be those protectors. We fostered your talents because we foresaw that the day would come when both universes would be in jeopardy. So… horrible as it is to say, today is the day for which you were created. What I could never have imagined is that I would be asking you to help me save my son. I’m so sorry.
Lincoln: Witnesses reported seeing two people jump out of a dorm window. Cops get there: one body. Grad student who lived there. But the cops find two sets of fingerprints on the ledge during their investigation.
Walter: I don’t know my way around here. Other people, I suppose, find comfort being in chapels, speaking to you. I have no other place to turn. I asked you for a sign, and you sent it to me. A white tulip. And I was so grateful. Since then, in moments of deep despair, I have found solace in believing that you had forgiven me. I was willing to let him go. I was willing to let Peter die. I’ve changed. That should matter. God, I know my crimes are unforgiveable. So punish me. Do what you want to me. But I beg you, spare our world.