Barlow always drank on the job, and the amount he was capable of consuming was absurd. He had a mug the size of a pitcher and once in a blue moon, he would drink enough to lighten his mood. On those rare occasions his violet eyes would light up with a devious glint and he would make an announcement to the entire bar: whoever was able to get into his cellar could drink as much from it as they wished from it, free of charge. Every traveler in the bar would perk up upon hearing this, as every local glanced at one another and chuckled. A crowd would gather around the bar top as people from all over-tested their strength against a massive iron hatch that lay behind it. Often two or three men would attempt the feat at once and still fail. Not once did the door budge even an inch, except for on one occasion.