Yes, and if you thought that was not a real requirement, then shame on you!   Here's the evidence,  a charming yellow bow tie being put into place for the evening's performance.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, that thing immediately below the toad isn't a bear rug, it's the leg of the Master of Ceremonies for tonight's performance.   And the bright blue thing behind the toad is a, well, how should one put it?   A gut.   Yes, truly a gut, doubtless called into existence by a lifetime's quaffing of fine wines and aperitifs.   All in the name of artistic excellence, of course.

    Ah, but I promised a multi-faceted cultural experience, and a multi-faceted cultural experience you shall have without further let or hindrance, and with no more prevarication, equivocation or verbal foppery!

    For this is no mere puerile ritual of cane toad torture for the amusement of the leering Ocker masses.  No!  This is High Art walking down a primrose strewn path hand-in-hand with Sport of nail-biting intensity, an Existential Fiesta of the Mind and the Emotions!

    This isn't just one cane toad, it's eight cane toads - racing, racing forward with the hopes and joys of the cheering hordes willing them on to higher things than any bug-eating toad ever dreamed of!   A race of visceral power, made more poignant and potent by that one constant golden thread running through the tapestry of Australian Culture!  Yes, I'm alluding to the mystical rite of gambling!   Gambling on cane toad racing!

    Each toad bedecked with a different coloured ribbon like all the colours of the rainbow, and each raffled off to one worshipper in the great Australian Temple of Delight!

   And for the lucky punter, male or female who can tell, one final redemptive act before collecting the night's winnings - kiss the toad!

   Gracious and noble, the host of tonight's bacchanalian revelry draws the evening's proceedings to a close, a fitting tribute to All That Is Good about the wonderful Land Down Under.