El Diablos are no ordinary beer. They are an ancient artefact of likely Satanic provenance that hails from a time before creation itself. They appear at random times in random locations throughout New Zealand and prey on unsuspecting souls, drawn like moths to a flame by the sinister patterns inscribed on the can. It took me three separate attempts to review El Diablos because each time I tried I either blacked out or ended up writhing on the floor screaming in garbled Latin.
It is said that El Diablos were placed on earth as a test for those wishing to summon the Prince of Darkness. To complete the ritual, one must:
- Imbibe the contents of six El Diablos, without regurgitation;
- Nail the six empty cans to the wall in an inverted crucifix, and then;
- Repeat the phrase “Satan I hath imbibed the foulest liquor of thine design, bequeath thy dark spirit unto me,” six times.
If you complete these easy steps you should feel the presence of Beelzebub in the vicinity of your inverted crucifix, at which point he will most likely grant you a wish with some ironic and sadistic twist.
El Diablos boast a 12% ABV because the high proof is necessary to preserve them for eternity. Without this fortification, the hellish flavour of the beverage could be softened over time, something the Devil would never allow. The instinctual face-screwing when you take your first sip is not because of the foul taste, but rather it is your body’s reaction to a demon slowly clawing its way into your soul.
Before you drink these you should definitely steal a Bible from a nearby motel, make as many crucifixes as possible, and possibly smoke a cigarette as a rudimentary form of incense, just in case a demon takes up permanent residence in your body. El Diablos are the filthiest concoction ever to occupy the shelves of NZ off-licence establishments. They are literally diabolical. Purchase them at your own peril.
Tasting notes: pride, greed, wrath, gluttony, lust, sloth, envy.
Froth level: immense.
Tastes like: whatever the opposite of holy water is.
Rating: 6.66/10 beware.