A fan of compelling-yet-vague descriptions, you choose the house special, ignoring the look on Mr. Overall's face.
"It's the perfect fireside drink," he drawls as he fills the growler. It's cute that he thinks you have a fireplace in this economy.
That evening, cozy in your PJs, you decide to try a mugful. In the spirit of things, you light a bougie candle you've been saving.
The cider is thick, almost syrupy. You start to think something might be wrong when the candle flame says your name.