A couple loud guys near the end of the bar are causing a ruckus and bragging about crazy adventures that were almost certainly not true, trying to impress the waitstaff.
"You guys ever been to Vegas?" you chat them up.
"Oh, yeah..." one of the guys says, "I was actually in a show...yeah, I was a lion tamer."
"Yeah, me too," says the other guys, also wanting attention. "Only I was an elephant trainer. All sort of elephants...white...pink...you name it."
"Well how 'bout a couple Vegas Bombs, for old times sake?" you says, serving up the drinks, "On the house."
The men gladly accept the drinks and down them quickly. In a matter of seconds, gigantic feather plumes sprout from their heads as long hair cascades down their smooth skin. Their clothes sparkle in the light as they shrink down to only cover the breasts and waist of the newly minted women, who stand on their new heels and admire their changed forms.