"Nowt, twas a time, back in the day when most of yer parents weer naut but twinkles in your grands eyes, when a fellow by the name of Robodel , tired of hearin o the power o scotts whiskey, determined to find the best mix tere eer was and claim it proper for the manx" And the story begins. The old man's accent is strong, yet clear enough to add to the music of his words rather than drown them out to an untrained ear. The story talks of Robodel and his efforts and struggles and .... of a rat! A rat that broke in on his great experiment and, as rats would do, drank and ate what it wanted and moved on...horrible beast. The longtail went from barrel to barrel, but then, it so turns out it does, that by poking a hole in one cask, the material from one mixed wit another...and into a great barrel it all fell. well, rats are smart bastards they are, but that mix, that glorious accident, was so damn good, that the rat could not help hisself, and drank and drank until he drowned! "and it was Robodel who found that rat, stiff as a board, wet as new paint, and with a smile on his face that spoke of tasting heaven that lead ta the great elixir's discovery. And that is why this very pub bears the name the Longtail's Last Call"