What we did
  • Brand Architecture
  • Product Naming
  • Package Design
  • Story Writing

Stories Are Best Over A Beer

Based in Marble Falls, Texas this up-and-coming craft brewery and restaurant has created quite a stir. After launching with 12 unique beers, they’re expanding their offering at a rapid clip. And their beer is amazing. You can take our word for it, but we recommend you try it yourself.

Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before

The Bear King brand is centered on the idea that some of the best stories have their genesis at the bottom of a nice cold brew (or three). The Bear King name is based on a local legend of a hapless young lady who disappears for a few days, shows back up disheveled, and (maybe rather than telling the truth) informs her parents and the other villagers that they have a creature in their midst that needs to be hunted down. Alas, the Bear King is never found…

Few dare cross the Monkey Bridge. Maybe it’s because a circus train full of mischievous monkeys overturned there. Or maybe it’s because they still live in the forest nearby, playing tricks on passersby.

The Story of Monkey Bridge

Every Beer Has A Story

Each beer variety that Bear King puts out is handcrafted with love and an amazing attention to detail. And the same is true for every beer name and package design.

The Story of Bull Dust

You probably never heard of a town called Bull, Texas. It’s not known to many, but you might be more familiar with it than you think. Ya see, somewhere between Wild West and just West, this little town was infamous for crooks, cons, carnies and cheats. The only honest soul among the lot was a quiet, old soothsayer who’d been there since before it was a one-horse town, let alone a two. Of all the residents in Bull, she was the only one who told the truth. And of all the residents, she was the one none would believe. Why would they? Truth hurts and that kind of painful honesty wasn’t exactly welcome in Bull. So they set her home ablaze and chased her out with only the clothes on her back and a fire in her eyes. With her parting words, she cursed the town and everyone in it. One more lie, one more falsehood, one more fib, she said, and their homes, their farms, the whole of their town would be wiped from Earth with nothing but dust left in its place. The people of Bull knew a bluff when they heard one, so they laughed it off and told themselves it was fine. The next day, the sun rose over the hills, people left their beds, and people told their lies same as every other morning. Until they felt it, a low rumbling that shook the ground and rattled in their ribs. The rising sun was replaced by a herd of cattle that stretched across the horizon. The last resident barely made it out before the herd trampled it all, leaving nothing taller than knee high to a heifer. Just when they thought it was done, the dust storm caused by the stampede wiped every single trace of the town called Bull right off the map. These days you wouldn’t know it if you were standin’ on top of it, but its legacy endures. Now, whenever anyone utters a falsehood, the first word out of your mouth is the name of a town you’ve probably never heard of.

The Story of Monkey Bridge

That idea that “just came to you,” that moment of genius you just happened upon…are you sure it was yours? No one knows where the Whisper Man will show up next. No one knows when. No one knows that he is a she. Brilliant, but unknown, she lived her entire life in the shadow of giants. Some thought she was a muse to the greatest minds of her time, but the truth is darker. She wasn’t in the presences of greatness, they were. In a time when equality was just a mathematical principle, she was the brightest light no one ever saw. And because they could get away with it, they stole her ideas. Every single one of them. When she passed, unfulfilled and unrecognized, her regret bound her here. And here she remains, sharing her genius with anyone who will listen, hoping someone will hear and finally give her the recognition she deserves. But time offers little kindness, and hers ran out long ago. So before you go claiming that “Eureka” moment as your own, remember to give credit where credit’s due. If not, the Whisper Man may just have to come back and find you.

The Story of Monkey Bridge

Ever walked down a dark road at midnight when a shiver runs down your spine? Imagine you’re walking down that same road and a rubber chicken’s discordant wail breaks the silence in such a way that you’re not sure whether to laugh, cry, or run screaming. Stories like these have made the Monkey Bridge less of a throughway and more of an urban legend. It’s origins involve a circus train traveling between towns that crashed, freeing the dozens of monkeys on board. But these weren’t your average monkeys. They had been trained from an early age to perform tricks, to pull pranks on their handlers to amuse the crowd. At some point the cheers from the audience stopped being enough. Through a kind of simian self-actualization they started doing tricks to entertain themselves. They added bits to the shows the trainers hadn’t planned for. The confusion stopped being an act and the shock and surprise weren’t quite so rehearsed. Still, the owners kept the show going because the monkey business was good for theirs, that is, until it wasn’t. Covered in every paper for 200 miles, one detail they all left out of every story about the derailment, one fact that was just too unbelievable to print. When searching for the cause of the crash, investigators nothing broken or out of place, just a single banana peel sitting on the floor of the engine car. The circus and the rest of the world moved on, but the bridge was never quite the same. Some claimed to have mysteriously lost things traversing the bridge, others said they could hear laughing coming from the forest nearby, but none could say for sure. So if you happen to take a midnight stroll across that specific bridge, best be prepared. The strange goings-on may just be a trick of the mind, or it may be a trickster of another kind.

The fog rolls in on the blood moon and rolls out just as quickly. If you’re lucky, when you stare into its void you might see everything you’ve ever wanted. If you’re not, you might never see again.

The Story of Foggy Eyes