A new wooden snare (the excitement of Hamish receiving a new snare; imagine winning it for £1 on ebay!), WHISKY! burnt sugar, Omar Sharif, stewed cherries, Jack Spaniels, orange blossom & mahogany.

Sour like green apples and the last salty vinegar strokes of a final fatal asphyxiwank, in a flat meticulously cleaned in preparation for said act, mingled with the tang of the lemon that he failed to bite down upon at the crucial moment (every day’s a school day!). ...

It was deemed a morning whisky, or breakfast dram, with many attendant caveats. And finally, the sense of something intangible, call it "rhrhyrhtrtgrtg", if you will.

In a sort of mad festive disaster, the Christmas pudding meets glue and hot tyres on a Formula 1 track, whilst the Quality Street get covered in coffee cream and lavender.

It was still aligned with normality when strawberry Starburst and buttery were observed (or obnosed), but then we got a bit abstract: an isolated pond, 'quite sorry like campers' (?), a man peeing on a night out ("Sheila 2014") and deep-fried pig rectum (!)..

Sweetness came in in the form of a Flake, some fudge, a donut and a dank, old cupboard in a hospital. Actually, scatch that last one…

Apple strudel. Superglue. Molten syrup. Ail varnish remover, games workshop's own-branded superglue

Christmas pudding seemed to feature for more than one person, but its rich depth only truly came out with a few warm up drams - but had the ability to beat its way to first place.

When a whisky is described as 'nail varnish and farty figs', 'goaty' 'cream candy (co)ca(i)ne' and 'expelled air from a bouncy castle', you know it's at least interesting. Oh, and 'figgy piggy' / 'hamnanas & rumtanas' on the taste. Intriguing..

In some kind of mad banana-fuelled rage, he storms out the room, picks up his damp laundry and coffee cake and runs off into the chorizo horizon.

You're having a porky barbecue with ribs, except that guy you didn't want to come came and the pork he brought was oldand he got some cheesy maple syrup from Pizza One Pancake Too in Norwich and insisted that everyone try his candied Kerosene and medicine-flavoured ice-cream...

Someone’s on the Grapa instead (there’s always one) - bet you it’s the one smelling the 15-19 year old girls perfume and exclaiming ‘You've got nice cornicing’..... hello!

"Oh boy! Empire biscuits!", yelped an intolerable Victorian child, as the HMS Dandelion & Burdock began to dock. A hive of activity erupted from deck as smells of sweetened sawdust morphed into that of a barn in summer for those with an imagination powerful enough to transmo...

Coriander and over cooked cabbage mingle with a definite ‘Iron’ smell of blood – raw black pudding to be exact. Perhaps a wee bit feisty like Atomic fire balls or even ‘Hepatitis E’.

Some unusual nosing techniques attempted here (giving the unusual category of 'taste on the eye', conclusion: sting-y), and someone said "the biggest fucking joke in the whisky club", we're virtually "100% farm" sure this wasn't meant negatively towards the nose, but who kno...

Zimbabwean mint & lamb crisps take us in an unusual direction before we're redirected to herbs and freshly cut grass. Roast pork and yoghurt sounds like a tasty dish, but it's all washed down with evil gingerbread!

I don't know what 'distilled grass' is, but if it were a real thing, it would smell like this - but also haggis.

More creaminess. Shortbread. Oh yes, a classic HP. Subtle background of fruit. Exotic fruits! MANGO! PASSIONFRUIT! A bit sickly. Agree with passion fruit but killed by cream.

Various kinds of confectionary are vying for our attention here - of the sucky sweet variety (cola cubes, barley sugars), more fruit-based efforts (fruit salads, tangfastics) and finally dark chocolate.

We taste old-school sweets and, displaying scant regard for the actual process involved, honey 'direct from a bee's bum'.

A Hungarian walks out of a smokey yurt having eaten a goulash (peppery and paprika), through the mossy earth and plunges into a dodgy lagoon full of snakes and crabs

A Cognac that goes from being "reet fruity" all the way to "Fuck me, that's grapey".

You've been sent to a hospital by the sea with the unfortunate condition of having caramelised your bananas. After the decent run of medical science, it transpired in the late 2020s that actually herbal medicine and alternative therapies were correct, and they swiftly replac...

If i were going to stick any firework up my arse, it would be a roman candle - so it looks like you're pooping fire

We seemed to agree on a hot / sweet flavours here – honey petals (?), spicy cayenne, raisins & bananas, breakfast Weetabix, tart tatin, and deception.

It depends on how you like your sailors but this one had been out at sea for at least 40 days and was starting to absorb the aromas of the remaining fermenting bananas and gooseberries.

Well, despite his unfortunate decent into chronic financial problems and alcoholism towards the end of his distinguished career, this tastes surprisingly nothing like I imagine he would have tasted.

Unripe stewed rhubarb, post-cocaine back-nose dribble (hints of), rosewater, sweet fresh oak, a distant chemical toilet, feijoa (A made-up fruit from NZ)..

There's now a herby, bitter sourness and Aquavit is the new alcohol metaphor, with toothpaste and dentist's mouthwash taking on the clinical mantle.

Banana foams give us a link from fruit to toffee, with coconut and tree sap watching from the sidelines. Flying saucers too (presumably the sweets?), but also a touch of bleach and Glacier Mints - a mixed bag!

It's like waking up to some horrific morning after a party - a salty Ginster's pasty, charcoal, post vomit mouthwash, Andrew's salts, flat coke and something undefinable mushy and unpleasant.

There appear to have been a couple of camps (not glamps) here, with some getting an intense, dry, woody vibe and some a fruity sweetness - weird.

Six billion. The population of the world if you perform a 'Chinese takeaway', that is for some inexplicable reason don't count the population of China. And round up. It tastes of Chinese takeaway, is what I'm trying to say.

We seem to have got pretty brand-focused smelling this, think we sent our corporate wing over by mistake: good varnish (like Ronseal), polycement, dried coriander, rubbish Turps, metal, Toffiffees, Chewits, OWLS, Playdough.

As the once majestic engine chugs into the station, it begins to reveal its cargo of the world’s exotica: Macadamia nuts, sultanas, fermenting papaya (it was a long journey), under-ripe mashed banana (or not long enough, but bumpy – no Pendolinos here), pickled lemons (final...

The positive was almond flour. The rest was diluted whisky, clean, empty, acid reflux and a burst balloon. The finish was minus two.

The positive was almond flour. The rest was diluted whisky, clean, empty, acid reflux and a burst balloon. The finish was minus two.

Oranges, orange rind, pith..."What a pithy comment" - Phil (no one laughs). "Says a guy who chases his whisky with milk" - Christina (people laugh). "Another pithy comment!" - Ali L (reaction unrecorded).

There were lots of floral things being brought up, but the tone wasn't that glowing: outdoors but indoors (like a greenhouse), a bad flower, parma violets - parma violence -, tomato pheromones, and those small white flowers in a flower arrangement.

One thought it was 'unfun' and that is goes down like a pint of crushed glass. Others were more positive in their review: Smells of arse, but tastes nice. Grape shit. Toxic waste. And some were bordering on glowing in praise: Flippers.

Cherry lip death and very drunken bananas. Like all the condiments I like: Worcester sauce, Tabasco, ketchup, brown sauce and vinegar. And rinds of various kinds.

Watch me drizzle honey all over my lemon, as I slowly unpeel my banana and undress this orange with my teeth. Take a freshly fucked pineapple and cocoNuts and voila – it’s a Penis Colada.

Icelandic wood then shifts us towards white wine vinegar and cloves, with basil sitting out there on its herby lonesome (who incidentally sounds like a 50s blues singer)

I have a soft spot for dark wood.

Dry sherry, 'cherry sherry', "a beautiful Highland landscape" (sarcasm), heathery sheep-turds (sarcasm?), Chupa Chups and toffee.

"Smells radge" and "holy fuckballs!" sum up the general feeling towards the smell, although there was some variation, with one saying it smelled boring, hard to place, generic and not very good and another saying it was the best nose of any whisky they'd experienced

In a mad combo of food, emotions, sacrificial techniques and poor fire control, it was also described as: smoked cheese, emptiness, immolation, oversmoked and citrus toast.