What in the Sam Hell Is THIS?!?!

I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but no ... there I was, just moments ago, making a casual Total Wine run for some gin, and what smacks me in the face just a few strides in? Yes, the tableau of blasphemy you see pictured here—NON-ALCOHOLIC OCTOBER FEST.

Look, this day has been hellish enough already, I didn't need to see my favorite ale castrated like this. I'm almost without words. But not quite. 

Who would sully their palate with this abomination? And why? WHHYYYYYYYYY?! 

I paraphrase the great Garth Algar in proclaiming that if Non-Alcoholic October Fest were an ice cream flavor, it would be pralines and dick.

Shame upon thee, Sam Adams, for this unforgivable transgression. I'm willing to look past it if, and only if, we can agree to never speak of it again.  

Also a lifetime supply of REAL October Fest would be nice. But I won't demand it. Just know, I'm disappointed. So disappointed. 

I'll need some quiet time now.