So, there I was, sat in the Rake, minding my own business with a bunch of reprobates - I mean, ratebeerians - when who should appear but Tom 'The Cad' Cadden. Not that unusual, I suppose, given that he works there. Unusual perhaps in the sense that he'd remembered where he works. And was awake. But that's another story.

The Cad came bringing gifts from Brewdog James, namely a version of Devine Rebel that had been aged further. By pixies. On ice. Or something.

Suffice to say, for me it seemed to take all the worse qualities of Devine Rebel and multiplies them; far too sweet, the whisky sickly sticky rather than slick, the general gloop demeanour clagging the palate.

Not for me, unsurprisingly. >

I have a sweet tooth. I love Mikkel's approach to brewing. I love Brewdog's approach to brewing. This is a collaborative beer with a sweet edge. So, after tasting Devine Rebel, I ought to be drooling like a slack-jawed adolescent whose just put his pinkie into the holiest of holies for the first time. Right?

Wrong. When I had this on cask back in March, I thought it was a case of 'too much too young'. Too sweet, too raw, too unbalanced, too much like feeling my precious remaining dentine was being scoured out my mouth. Now, here's a bottle nearly nine months down the line and it feels even worse. Cloudy brown, sticky sweet, cloying in the clack.

Love the idea. But Devine Rebel flops around so, makes you want to punch it in the nuts for being so ill-disciplined. There's a good beer in here, but it's struggling topush through the sickly sweet sheet wrapped around its very being. Not even close, guys. Rip it up and start again. Please. >