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This venue is closed.

What’s the difference between this stop on Cobble Hill’s bar row and your uncle’s hunting cabin? Well, for one, your uncle probably doesn’t clang a bell and yell “Buckshot!” periodically as a way to call guests (many of them D.A.’s from the nearby courthouse or students from Brooklyn Law) to imbibe a shot of spiced whiskey. All else, though, points to a sportsman’s paradise: a nautical mirror, old tennis racquets, secondhand water skis, a Piels Frisbee… For better or worse, that beer brand isn’t offered so Schlitz, Keystone Light, and Coors Lite (available by the bucket) substitute as swill while Pork Slap, Mother’s Milk, and Honey Brown step in for pickier drinkers. Bike-riding co-owner Diane—whose uncle donated the PBR crystal light globe—abandoned her plan to install a mechanical bull, but a Big Buck Hunter machine and darts ensure some in-house recreation as does a poker tournament that pays out in booze. If you want tips on how to become the “Buck of the Month,” just ask one of the bartenders: Their jokes will have you accidentally spraying buckshot in your friend’s face à la Dick Cheney. — Daniel Maurer