"Maybe not donkeys then", muttered the Madame, "but I'll come back to them when the time is ready. Stephen, take those jackasses to the stables. And take that miserable boy with you."
Stephen grabbed Jeff by the hand and led him, and the donkeys through the broad rear exit door. Madame Illusia opened the wooden chest at the back of the stage and took out a full bottle of finest whisky. She turned to address the audience.
"Say, which of you fine fellows reckons he can hold his drink the best?
There were sniggers from the exclusively young and male crowd.
"Come on, now, don't be shy. Hands high in the air to down half a bottle of the finest scotch whisky. Which of you is man enough to take up the challenge?"
About a dozen hands were raised.
"And now, which of you volunteers thinks that he could drink a whole bottle?"
Hands went down, leaving just one remaining. Madame Illusia turned to the man. He was a thick-set bearish man with the flushed and veiny face of the habitual drinker. His companions pushed him forward so that Madame only had to give him a hand up to haul him onto the stage.
"Our brave contender", she announced, in mock interview style. "What's your name? Why do you think you could do the challenge?"
"My name's Rudy", he replied gruffly, facing the audience with a sneer on his face "and I could drink any of you pansies under the table."
"What strange ideas you have Rudy", said the Madame. "The one place you won't be going is underneath the table".
She shouted in the direction of the exit door where the boys-turned-donkeys had been taken: "Are they ready yet, Stephen?"
The reply came swiftly: "Ready when you are."