Golden Hoardfucker

  It is said that this drink, this Golden Hoardfucker, was served on ice, in a huge crystal goblet. It had the colour of smokey glass or dusty tears or watered down milk, but everyone is on the same page when it comes to the white steam coming out of the goblet, because the drink was emitting heavy, white smoke which was - allegedly - not coming from the ice in the drink.   At first it smells like iced citrus, cold and refreshing, combined with a bit of mint or meltpepper. The steam is cold, like it was deep frozen in a glacier and is happy to be released.   Then you want to drink it. It lures you in with the fresh, rich scent, the steam invites you in, caresses your senses with alluring cloudy fingers. The fluid is cold or warm or both at the same time, nobody is really sure. You take a sip. The taste is cold or warm or both or burning, the second sip catapults you into a sensory disarray. You feel like you are in a large cave, cold from outside, hot on the inside; there is a huge pile of gold; coins and bars and bits. They speak to you, invite you in, whispering alluring words, seductively even.   You start to unclothe yourself, walking towards the huge, insanely, absurdely amount of gold, lower yourself into the cold embrace to give it the love it deserves.   And then you wake up and realise you haven't moved an inch since the drink took ahold of you.