The Story of SNUV "White Range": Episode 3 - Snow
Winter set in hard. There must have been four feet of snow on the ground. There were berms lining the roads and pavements. Snow clung defiantly to the trees; skies were blue and diamonds danced in the frigid air. Beards had icicles and the breath of passers-by would hang in the air long after they had disappeared.
It was gorgeous. But I was bummed.
My big package of Snuv White Range - Line was gone. Worse I had people calling me incessantly asking for more. Who knew that Uncle Pablo's special white snuv would be so popular?
I called and he promised to send me some immediately. A freebie he said. Normally only the first one is free, but hey, for his favourite nephew, he would send some more. After that it was "Plata o Plomo" whatever that meant. I told him I was in no need of a plumber despite the risk of freezing pipes, so I would take the crockery if that was ok. he didn't seem to mind. That's why he is my favourite uncle. So generous.
A week later the post arrived. I could swear the driver was NBF. I waved and he waved back, big smile on his face. I shouted at him to stop in for a cup of tea, but he said he had to finish his deliveries. Next time, he promised, he would stop by for some plata o plomo. Plata, I shouted back as he drove away. Sheesh. Them and their plumbers. Maybe one of Uncle P's friends is in the plumbing business or something.
I dragged in my big well sealed box. Man it was heavy! Eagerly I opened it up, only to find a box full of bananas. Oh no! He forgot my white snuv!
I dug into the box. they were nice bananas right enough, if a bit green. I realised half way down there was another section, almost like a hidden compartment. I pulled it up, and lo and behold there was eight big packs of my beloved snuv, all tightly wrapped in plastic and duct tape. Uncle P sure takes his snuff seriously. He's a tricky one though hiding it like that. Always kidding around, that's Uncle P alright.
I snuck the packets up to my room. Didn't want to upset mother again.
I took the first one out: Genuine. Just like the Original and Genuine from McChrystals (still one of my favourite snuffs of all time) except this one is even better. The secret ingredient, Uncle P's white snuff. It kicks it up to a whole new level. Excellent.
I tried another one from the middle. No flavour at all. Just the good stuff and nothing else. Aha...Snuv Line. I had grown to love it strangely enough. The unadulterated power of strong white snuff. Stomps you like White Elephant. Kicks you like White Horse. And rips your head off like Cheeta.
I retrieved a packet from the last section. I took a good old snort and my sinuses damn near exploded. It reminded me of that hugely mentholated British snuff, Hedges. Except this one has some real power to it. My head reeled and my eyes teared up. My nose burned like a mother. Woah.
As I was leaning on the window sill, vision blurry from the tears still streaming, I realised I needed to name this one too. But what?
I surveyed the white vista stretching out over the fields and woods, and it came to me. This cold a snuff had to be called SNOW. Yes I like that. Snuv Snow. Another in the White range.
I called my friends and new friends and told them of my delivery. Soon it was gone. Again. But many of them insisted on paying, oddly enough. They said a man in a banana truck had told them it was the polite thing to do. At first I tried to refuse, but then I figured, why not. This way I can pay Uncle P for the plates and plumbers he promised me.
This is how Snuv Snow was born.
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