Benny had made his own wine for years. It was a kit, so all the ingredients and everything needed were purchased in a single package. He’d done it so often that he no longer needed to read the instructions. After so many years of doing it, any man and his dog could make wine with their eyes shut.
Benny had a reputation these days. Joey, a young fellow from down the road, asked Benny if he could make a couple of kit sets of the stuff for his wedding.
“If I buy the kits would you be able to make enough of the stuff for my wedding?”
Of course, Benny said he’d be delighted, and within a day or two the fermentation had begun. When all was finished, Benny bottled fifty-six bottlefuls.
The night before the wedding, Joey called on Benny to collect the alcohol. “I’ve just come to pick up the beer,” he said.
“Beer?” asked Benny. “But I thought it was wine.”