The clock strikes noon as King Citra awakens in his parents' basement with only one thing on his mind, battle. He straps on his cardboard chainmail, arms himself with his pool-noodle broadsword, grabs his brown bag lunch, and heads to Ohlone Park to continue with his campaign. With a towering aroma of mom's fresh squeezed orange juice and tangerines freshly picked from the backyard, no one will be competing with the king today. A thick and full mouthfeel creates an Orange Whip-like profile that sticks to the palate with a refreshingly dessert-esque fervor, slowly giving way to a soft bite of carbonation. As the sun sets across the horizon King Citra fires thunderbolt after thunderbolt at every taste receptor till they are overwhelmed and he struts away, crown atop his head, still reigning supreme over his Empire of Double IPA.