"And it will make such a nice friendly gesture," Toffee put in, "to show that you forgive us our thoughtless little jibes."
"Well," the voice returned, a shade less hesitant. "I am a little dry."
"Of course you are," Marc said jovially, "and we have the very thing to bring you comfort and contentment. Just step over here and I'll give you this whole bottle."
"No tricks?" George asked warily.
"George!" Toffee said, thoroughly scandalized, "how can you even entertain such a notion?"
"Just to show you," Marc said, "why don't you stay invisible? You're perfectly safe that way."
"Okay," George agreed. "Just hold out the bottle."
"Right-oh," Marc said and turned to Toffee. "Give it everything," he whispered. Toffee nodded.
As Marc held out the bottle, Toffee sighted on the area in line with his hand, on the principle that George, being a duplicate of Marc, his head would be on the same level. The best strategy, she felt, was to concentrate on this area as swiftly and violently as possible. She held the bottle in readiness and when, a moment later, the bottle jogged in Marc's hand, she was prepared. She swung as hard as she could in a wide horizontal swipe. About half way, the bottle jarred to an abrupt stop and shattered, spewing liquid and glass in all directions. This was subsequently followed by a surprised moan and a heavy thudding sound in the vicinity of the floor.