With a loud crash, Trinity's jug smashes to pieces and the remaining contents soak his shirt as the bullet continues its path and lodges itself in the side of the house. Unshaken, Trinity removes his shirt and wrings as much of the liquid into his mouth as he can.
Knowing his access to the Dismal will no longer be legally available, he packs up his still and supplies and heads for the hills where he finds a nice hinding spot with a natural spring. In an hour, Trinity is already producing his recipe.