You've stepped away from your time machine for a few hours and come back to find that it's still there, but someone has absconded with your bottle of single barrel. Probably those damn morlocks. The nerve. It's not nearly as complex as I anticipated, but the star here is the heat. Think of a hot piece of metal placed in water. Strong but not overpowering heat right away, then it transforms into an incredibly smooth whiskey. It's just fun to drink. Morlocks be damned, we fight for our eh Taylor single barrel.