Back in the days of the Klondike Gold Rush,
To prove their courage was more than mush,
These hardy sourdoughs,
Had to gulp a drink containing a human toe.
At the Downtown Hotel in Dawson City,
They continue this tradition that is not pretty.
To the roar of the cheering crowds,
These intrepid drinkers gaze up at the clouds.
Then with a mighty gulp,
They pray their stomachs don’t turn to pulp,
And swallow their shot of Yukon Jack,
Even though they know,
Their lips must touch a grizzled human toe.
Now I am not a manly man,
Just an average girl,
But I decided to take my chance
And hope that I would not hurl.
So I looked to the sky,
And thought of something tasty... like pie,
Then I promptly swallowed my drink,
And turned a lovely shade of pink.
So now I am a member of an exclusive club,
Of those who drank a toe that was just a shriveled stub,
And then I promptly left the bar,
To get my toothbrush and mouthwash and proceed to scrub!
(With apologies to the great Yukon poet Robert Service)