Woof, he needed to leave. Not necessarily the fair itself, just the beer garden. This<i>Tricerahops IPA </i>was out-and-out kicking his ass. And then Felix Wyman found out the lethal brew’s ABV: 8.8%!!! Well, no wonder! Shame he had just taken ownership of his fourth pint, which was also his last one. As buzzed as he already was, excellent beer was not to be wasted. And speaking of wasted, he was evidently on his way.<br/><br/>With children out and about on the fairgrounds, the fair’s policy was to keep all alcoholic beverages within the confines of the beer garden. Felix had no idea why they called it that, since beer wasn’t the only adult drink on offer. And another thing, where was the garden? He knew he had one too many to drink, if the random, stupid thoughts vying for his attention were anything to go by. Already planning ahead, he thought it best to stand up now and walk around the bogus garden. If, however, he waited to completely consume his fourth pint, and<i>then </i>attempt to stand, he entertained visions of getting up close and personal with the grassy ground.<br/><br/>Believing it was best to have something in his stomach besides four pint’s worth of 8.8% IPA, he ordered a bratwurst in a bun, with sauerkraut, mustard, diced onions, and relish completing the gastrointestinal concoction. Naturally, he made a slight mess while eating it, but that was part of the fun. And wherever he looked, everyone was having fun of one sort or another.<br/><br/>Food and drink now done and dusted, Felix thought it was as good a time as any to wander the grounds. The varying sights, sounds, and aromas created a rich smorgasbord for the senses, and it was time to explore all of this further. And then there were the fair maidens to consider. Best to keep the sense of touch out of the equation, he prudently thought. Strolling amongst like-minded people, the sensory overload was like fairies dancing around his cloudy head. Or more than likely, and thanks to the<i>Tricerahops, </i>in his head.