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.The thought of the boozer in Palma reminds Albert his glass is empty, and he don’t half fancy a refill.There’s waitresses working the lounge but he can’t get anyone’s attention: seems his choice of a table so near the stage has its downside, as they don’t want to be moving back and forth right in front of the show.Bollocks.He can’t get up and go to the bar; same as the waitresses, he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, though for a very different reason.Then it turns out Maximilian only reads naffing minds as well, don’t he?He walks across to the left-hand side of the stage, where there’s an area curtained off, and pulls a cord.The curtain swishes clear to reveal a narrow cocktail bar, padded with studded leather and bearing a row of stemmed glasses along the top, as well as a translucent cylinder.It’s a lot like the ones every nouveau-riche punter used to have in their living room, intending to create the impression of upper-class sophistication but paradoxically serving instead to reinforce the fact that they was one generation out of a room-and-kitchen in the East End.Needless to say, Uncle Vic had one.If the cylinder turns out to be a lava lamp, then that would just put the tin lid on it and he’d be right back at Vic’s place in Ilford.Albert remembers he raided Vic’s bar one curious Sunday afternoon at the age of nine and got his first taste of gin, with the result that his next taste of the stuff was close to two decades later.Quite likes it these days, mind, and would sincerely like another Martini right now.Fat chance of that though, he reckons, and he ain’t the only one sitting there thirsty.Maximilian reaches into the bar and pulls out a bottle of vino, which he then lobs over his head, letting it spin a couple of full rotations before catching it behind his back in his other hand.He twists off the screwtop, saying, ‘Thank God for the Australians – kinda slowed the pace of the trick when I had to uncork it,’ and grabs a glass from the top of the bar, holding it by the stem.He pours out a glass of vin rouge and has a sniff before sampling a brief taste, then wrinkles his hooter like he ain’t impressed.‘It’s chilled,’ he says.‘Really ought to be room temperature.’He holds the glass in front, about eye-level, then waves his other hand, wiggling his fingers like he’s casting a spell.The wine bursts into flames: seriously, real fire, not just a little blue tickle like on top of a Sambuca.‘Sorry, overdid that a little,’ he says.He goes back to the bar and places the bottle back down out of sight, lifting a chrome cocktail shaker in its place and pouring the still flaming wine into it.He holds it up in one hand and gives it a bit of a swirl.Meanwhile the assistant has entered from the other side with this huge glass tankard, supporting it in both hands, as it looks like it must hold two pints at least.‘Maybe something cooler, huh? How about a Margarita,’ he suggests, and pours the contents of the shaker into the tankard.Instead of red wine, it’s a clear green liquid that pours from the shaker.And pours, and pours, until the tankard is close to full, despite the shaker being less than half the size of the thing.He places the shaker back behind the bar and takes the tankard from the assistant.‘Kind of overdid it again.Who’s thirsty?’ he asks, to plenty of giggles and not a few raised hands in the audience.‘No, wait a second, it’s pretty dark down there.Better make sure I can see what I’m doing.’ With this, he flips a switch and the translucent cylinder reveals itself to be a white lamp.‘That’s better.Wouldn’t want to spill this,’ he says, picking up the shaker again and carefully pouring the contents of the tankard into it.Once again, it appears he bought it from whoever built the TARDIS.‘This is a phenomenon which you’ll encounter in any bar,’ Innez tells his audience as the Margarita continues to implausibly flow into the shaker.‘Usually applying to the optics, so that what looks like a lot of booze as it’s pouring out, somehow becomes that tiny measure at the bottom of your shot glass.’ Everyone laughs, Albert especially.It’s bloody true of every boozer he’s drunk in.Innez finishes pouring and the assistant puts a cap on the shaker before taking the tankard and exiting stage left [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]