Granted. The bottle appears before you, sitting idly on the table, no definite label on the glass container. You peer at it cautiously, awaiting something further, as if you'd expected something to go wrong, yet there it sits, still capped with a cork and nothing all too unique about it. So, you raise it in your hands, waiting, cautious with every motion, and gently grasp at the cork, pulling, until a gentle and low *pop* sounds from the mouth of the glass, and still, nothing all too special has occurred.

You set the bottle down, walking to your cupboard to withdraw a small glass, though you can't seem to find one. Turning back, the vodka still sits, though intriguingly enough, the cap has been replaced. You walk over to it again, pull the cork off, sniff the contents, [i]oof, that's the good stuff[/i], and lift the rim to meet at your puckered lips for just a quick sip. You're tongue is met with a bitter taste, and you withdraw swiftly, staring down at the glass which had, again, somehow gotten corked, though you had thought you still had the cork in hand before.

Congrats, you have a bottle of vodka, that can't be drank from.

I wish I was proud of my own work.