Pfffttt! I HAVE the Grail. I am drinking beer out of it whilst I read this thread. It was stolen by my ancestral Celts to keep it out of the heathen Roman hands because they were down with the Roman Cat'lics. Then, when they paid the Germanic Tribes to fuck over the Celts, the Celts kept the grail just because eh. The Grail wasn't safe in WW1 so it was spirited to Canada in secrecy... of course, on a sleek schooner named The Bluenose, as it was the fastest vessel of the times, commandeered for the task by His... Her... whatever... Royal Navy. Anyway, Long short of it is, the Grail ended up in the back woods of Kent County, New Brunswick. I mean, where could it be safer? So, one day, Gramps says to me, "I'm just about done. I want one last drop O the pure before I go to the big bog in the sky. But, I want to drink it from The Holy Grail... look in the bed chest. I have been charged with it's safety since I was a boy" I found it. The minute I touched it, I was overwhelmed. He drank and I drank from the Grail. He shut his eyes... and I knew... I was the keeper of The Holy Grail. I must grab another Bud now. Grail's empty.