Let me tell you a story about a bar named Pravda.
They have excellent Bloody Maries. Lemon AND pepper-flavored vodka, tomato juice, and enough vegetables to make a salad. Plus some secret New Orleans ingredients that put the spiciness level juuuuuust this side of comfortable.
I got one of these Bloody Maries, and it was good. Like, "it was good" in the Biblical sense. Stormy drank the Bloody Mary and it was good.
The Bloody Mary was all that I could talk or even think about. I became an instant missionary, with the singular goal in mind of spreading the glory of the Bloody Mary. I opened the one 2set in the bar with this:
"This is the best Bloody Mary I have ever had. Holy hell, have you all had one of these yet? It's delicious."
That was my opener, and I followed in a similar vein. I was a wacky drunk dude talking about how awesome his Bloody Mary was. And it worked. The set hooked upon being brought the Word of the Bloody Mary.
Chief was there. He understood the glory of the Pravda Bloody Mary.
And then he swiped my set while I wasn't looking because he didn't see me gaming them.
