Stand-Alone-Stach #5

"Here, take a drink of this." That was German, I don't speak German do I?

I knock back the glass and grimace. Jagermeister. "So smooth," I reply in Polish. Polish, since when do I speak Polish and understand German? Stach what have you done this time?

Judging by our winged out collars and swinging attire it must be the seventies. Since we are speaking German and Polish we must be in Eastern Europe. I swill down another shot of cough syrup and my face reacts accordingly. The German photographer in front of my squeals with delight. "That's it! That's it! We've got a perfect ad campaign idea. So smooth, so perfect."

I spend the next few hours in various poses holding bottles, holding glasses, and swilling Jager while my German counterpart snaps pictures. The next day (late in the day thanks to my hangover), the photographer and I select the best. We rush off to Jager-HQ and pitch an ad campaign. Jager-Powers-That-Be are immediately impressed with our creative idea, our showcase of their swill, and my impressive lip warmer. The invention of the Jager-Face is born, and my picture inspires a series of magazine and billboard adds that will run for the next seven years.

I enjoy my new found Eastern European fame by making guest appearances on Polish state run TV, state run mandatory morale events, and state run radio. I even cut a state run album called Jager, the Stach, and me. I have komrades o'plenty. Looking back it was a pretty awful time. Communist Poland sucks, thanks Stach.

I felt a need to help the Polish people throw off the reigns of collectivism by organizing my own collective group. Inspired by the stern and forthright nature of my Stach they named this first non-government trade union after it, "Stach". A movement was born. Unfortunately in the West a poorly trained translator mistranslated "Stach" into "Solid", so in the US the movement is still erroneously known as "Solidarity".

It all came to a tragic end for me one day when government minders rounded me up, sent me to Siberia, I wrote a 7,000 page book on crime and punishment (only to find out later that someone already beat me to it), and charged seven dollars (SEVEN DOLLARS? for one round?) for the bullet that would be used in my execution.

I give you: The Jager Stach (a.k.a. So Smooth)