"I'm glad you like my setup. The other Harlots like what I've done here too and so do some of the other band members who come in here to drink. The Danes and some of the Brits do too."

Ivar's room was welcome to anyone who wanted to sample his next batch of booze. Unless he was sleeping or playing on stage, anyone could knock and bring a friend to sample the gut rot. It was a good relationship and a way to get trashed while avoiding expensive bar bills.

"What you're drinking? It's vodka. Made with some potatoes I bought at a local market downtown. Thought I'd give it a go. It has a nice earthy taste to it followed up by a brutal kick."

Potato vodka. How do you find it, Isamu?