The voice of Caroline Dufner cracks through the loudspeakers.

"Daisy. Rose. Violet. The Magic Bouquet!"

The applause intensifies, covering the intro to the next song. Daisy and Rose stand up slowly, sinuously. The music is completely different than before, conveying a sense of mystery and sensuality.

"Now, do not let appearances deceive you, dear ladies and gentlemen: there is more to these good-looking women than meets the eye. Our Violet here, for example, is a world-class mistress of the art of contortion."

The blonde on the table smiles and bows, except it's not just an ordinary bow: her torso swings all the way down between her unmoving legs, and she reaches in between, grasping her own calves from behind.

A sultry saxophone kicks in, pouring the first notes of "Summertime" down everybody's back.

The woman crawls up herself, coiling like a snake, until her face is level with her rear, then she wraps her arms around her hips. Daisy and Rose grab the table and go gently spinning it round and round, showcasing their partner's flexibility from all angles.

Violet uncurls, and in a continued motion she kicks up one leg and wears it like a scarf around her neck, balancing herself on the other leg.

As the contortionist goes about her routine, Baines sneaks off to backstage. When he returns, carrying a large cylindrical object, Violet is standing upside-down on her forearms, with her feet hanging just above her head. Her legs straighten up, then drop apart in a split. The other two women take ahold of one ankle each and spin the blonde a full turn. After that, they move to one side of the table and go down on all fours, forming a sort of human two-tier step stool. They don't even flinch as the magician climbs up their backs on his way to the  tabletop.

Meanwhile Violet has regained an upright position. It doesn't last long: the woman promptly bends over backwards, folding on herself so that her head rests between her feet, with her face up to the audience. She reaches around her shins and locks her arms together, while her tits find a pair of custom-made holes in the tabletop and slip through to the underside.

Behind her, Baines raises the mysterious object up high. It appears to be made of satin glass and has a plunger in it, like the barrel of a giant syringe. The magician attaches the strange tool to the table, entrapping the woman within. Violet, now little more than a pink blur, doesn't make a move. Her knees, the topmost part of her body, are holding the plunger almost all the way out of the barrel.

Daisy and Rose come over and fasten a series of latches along the base of the device, securing it firmly in place, then they walk away in opposite directions. Mirroring each other, they extend one arm up toward Baines and bow down low, as graceful as ballet dancers. The magician places both hands on the plunger and begins to push it down, slowly but steadily, his bare muscles bulging. Inside the glass, Violet is gradually crushed under the pressure. As her pink silhouette loses shape her breasts begin to swell on the underside of the table. Like balloons being inflated, they quickly grow to double, then triple of their original size, gaining orders of magnitude for every inch in the plunger's progress.

As soon as it started, it's over: nothing remains of the woman inside the barrel. Her entire body has been fed through the holes in the tabletop into a monstrous pair of Swiss-ball-boobs.

Baines hops off the table and single-handedly pushes it to the back of the stage, leaving behind the two orbs of flesh that are his assistant. They stand independently from each other and their skin is seamless, showing no sign of ever having been two halves of one bosom. The nipples, partly visible although flat against the floor, have grown to be about as big as vinyls.

With looks of amusement upon their faces, Daisy and Rose roll the gigantic breasts off to the microphone stand, where the host for the evening is waiting.

"Well," says Caroline, "I know some women who are all boobs and nothing else, but this takes the cake."

The assistants laugh, as scripted.