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The relentlessness of the machines has overpowered the masses. THE AI has become self-aware and we’ve been introduced to a world ruled by Skynet. In this post-apocalyptic hellscape, Traditionator is the last remaining machine on our side. Bolstered by the strength brought to him by his robust malt backbone, he illuminates the waste lands with a garnet hued, life-giving brew. Through the howling winds we hear his undying promise: I’ll be bock! Toasty notes with hints of a subtle, reserved sweetness from darker fruits do well to convince one’s palate it is not experiencing an 8.5% machine of a beer

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