A huge bear of a man enters the bar, and, plunking himself down on a barstool, and bellows for the bartender. The bartender takes one look at him, hangs his head, and mutters, "Oh, god, not Svenson again..." When the hassled man comes up to ask him what he wants, Harald Svenson says, "A pint of Rheinland beer!"
The barkeeper frowns at him. "We ain't got any of that foreign stuff. The embargo with Rheinland's stopped all the imports."
"What?!" says Svenson, incredulously. "Damnable heathens, you lot wouldn't know good beer if you were hit over the head with a keg of it. No Rheinland beer? Bah. Do you have any of the Borderworlds brew? The Sidewinder Fang?"
The barkeeper glares at him. "No, we don't. Why does everyone keep asking for those?! Sidewinder Fang this, Sidewinder Fang that... Sheesh. Look, pal, it's either Liberty Ale, or some of the new brandy in from Bretonia."
After spending some time thinking it over, Svenson chooses the ale, then continues to grumble about its inadequacy, pointing out its distinct lack of body, flavour, or any other redeeming qualities whatsoever.