finlandvevo-deactivated20140430 asked: He stared into the cold, unforgiving eyes of the jug. Nothing could save him now, not even a sip of that thick, sweet juice. No, Michael Rosen was helpless against the jug, who's contents beckoned him like the finger of death. It was too late. "Here we go" Michael's voice quivered. His fingers grasped the handle of the jug. He took a deep breath. "Lift the jug"