It was early June when I saw the news, but I had to check my calendar to make sure I didn’t accidentally fall into a Rip Van Winkle nap, only to awaken on 1 April. I had not, so I read the CNN headline again: “Liquid Death’s next act: A whiskey aged in a casket”.

Liquid Death, in case you’re not already aware, is a canned water company whose tongue-planted-firmly-in-cheek branding is as attention-snatching as some of the most iconic companies (think: Nike, Coke and, of course, Johnnie Walker). Its slogan is “murder your thirst” and its vibe is unambiguously heavy metal. Its commercials are unforgettable: a gaggle of eight- or nine-year-olds dancing mosh-pit-style to hard rock, trashing the room, and gulping from cans like a bunch of frat boys and high school girls chugging beer. (“Don’t be scared. It’s just water,” says the ad.)

Well, it appears that Liquid Death has made its foray into actual not-for-pre-teens beverages. Here’s the gist: GraveStock, a wheat whiskey, is a partnership with WhistlePig, the Vermont distillery that launched in 2010 with juice sourced from Canada. It opened under the guidance of the late Dave Pickerell. This partnership has a practical aspect, in that they’re proofing the spirit with Liquid Death water, which comes from an undisclosed mountain source. But it’s also gimmicky: it’s been aged several years in an American oak barrel before being transferred to 380-gallon American oak casket-shaped foeders.

WhistlePig is no stranger to attention-getting stunts. Past partnerships have included Alice Cooper and Formula 1 racing. Liquid Death, for its part, has erroneously partnered with e.l.f. Cosmetics and Martha Stewart. Brand partnership is a tactic that could fill an entire semester of study at a business school. When brands team up — especially creating a new product emblazoned with both of their names — it’s a carefully strategized tactic to reach a common goal. When it comes to packaged goods, that goal is, of course, more exposure and increased sales. Each brand is positioned to enhance the other with the underlying intention of reaching new markets. As I did a little B-school crash course to learn more about co-branding, I realised that the Liquid Death/e.l.f. endeavour maybe isn’t so haphazard after all. After all, how else would a metal-themed spring water seize the attention of a Sabrina Carpenter fan in Ohio shopping online for eyeshadow. It’s worth mentioning that Liquid Death, which launched in 2017, is valued at US$1.4 billion, so they’re clearly doing something right.

Still, though, a number of recent partnerships have me rubbing my eyes and blurting “WTF??” The first that comes to mind was the very weird and yet very wonderful collaboration between Doritos and Empirical, the so-called “flavour company” that made a spirit inspired by the snack food. Or consider: Buffalo Trace pairing up with men’s body care brand Duke Cannon for soaps and body wash. Or haircare company TRESemmé joining forces with Red Clay Hot Sauce to launch Hot Gloss, a spicy peach hot honey that I don’t think you’re supposed to use in the shower. Boutique pickle company Grillo collaborated with the old-school vegetable-juice company V8 for a Bloody Mary mix. Though admittedly, that one actually makes good sense.

Part of me wonders if these projects are exercises in creativity: a case of like-minded brand execs teaming up and saying “what if?” Part of me wonders if it’s an effort to manufacture absurdity, because absurdity is a defining attribute of this moment in history. (If dating an AI “personality” or relying on a computer to write your dissertation doesn’t seem absurd to you, then I’d like to know what point in the future you time-travelled here from.) But the louder part of me knows that to make a splash in a crowded, super-competitive market, you need to be a little weird. You need to take risks, even when you have shareholders to answer to. In short: you need to show up on social media. In a big way. If you do that cleverly, you’ll be the whisky brand that whisky nerds rave about that also shows up in the feeds of the Millennial women in Idaho shopping for mascara online.