Of course. And indeed a truly monumental, years-long effort to become one of the great medieval fassbungers, a calling fraught with peril, particularly if the elastic (originally genuine catgut) cord was set at too long a length, either by accident or, more often, as a devious homicidal plot hatched by an overly ambitious apprentice. And only the most legendary of fassbungers would dare to fassbung unaccompanied.
But a truly thrilling sight, to see the fassbunger jump bravely into the cask from the diving platform, empty goblet in hand, and bounce back up with the glass now full nearly to the brim, a ritual still performed once a year to enthralled audiences by the one and only remaining fassbunger, a certain Wilhelm Schuttelbaum. |
