It's show night at the Angel's Share.
A diminutive bard sets down an empty wine bottle and walks onto the stage, harp in hand.
He prefaces his song with a speech and a joke, from the back corner I simply shout:
"Time for takeoff!"
And his eyes go blank as his hands instinctively begin pulling down his lederhosen, revealing a 4 inch uncut pecker that is rapidly growing erect.