Behind every jovial flat party, every electric scooter thrown through a glass window, and every deck that spews DnB onto the street...is Billy Maverick. He is the lifeblood of North Dunedin. If the Leith were to ever dry up, it would be replaced with bourbon and cola.
Billy Mavs come exclusively in 12 and 18-can boxes, however any respectable breatha wouldn’t be caught dead with only 12 cans. Lovingly referred to as a “coffin”, the 18-can box of Mavs is the common favourite among men that think, “Black Lamborghini is the fastest and coolest car and Megan Fox is the hottest chick ever!!!” There is no harm in enjoying a Mav, just don’t kid yourself about liking it for the bourbon. You’re drinking these to get fucked up on inordinate amounts of caffeine, sugar and alcohol, while gunning for a heart attack at 23.
These things are overly sweet to mask the taste of alcohol, yet the musky flavour of cupboard-aged bourbon still cuts through. This taste is inoffensive and actually induces a nostalgia for your deceased grandmother's stagnant household. Thank you, Billy Maverick, for your ability to facilitate generational healing.
While it’s easy to shit on Mavs, they are undeniably a crowd pleaser and an instigator of chaos. The fabled “court case in a can”. A legendary drop that can take a good beating.
Billy won’t help you pass your assignments, but he will be there to commiserate with you, and at $1.50 a standard he’s cheaper than most. Spend a night with Billy and you’ll most likely end up with a UTI.
Tasting notes: Like drinking a coffin.
Chugability: 10/10 will melt a funnel.
Hangover depression level: High, you will regret everything you did last night.
Overall: 8/10. I love Billy Mavs.