BlackShanglan
Silver-Tongued Papist
- Joined
- Jul 7, 2004
- Posts
- 16,888
All right, a long one:
A drunk walks into a bar, postively reeling, and orders a double whiskey. The bartender refuses to serve him. "No, go home, you tosser - you're too drunk already."
"I am not," declares the drunk, swaying unsteadily. "I'm perfecklish shober. Whiskey!"
The bartender rolls his eyes and starts around the bar to throw the drunk out. Then the drunk gets a gleam in his eye.
"Right! I can prove I's shober. An I gots 50 poundsh shays I'm right."
He slaps the money down on the bar. The bartender eyes the money.
"All right," he says, "how are you going to prove it?"
The drunk waves at the dart board. "Eashy! I hit tha' bullseye. No drunkish gonna to that."
"You're on!" says the bartender, thinking that the money is his.
The drunk picks up the dart. He staggers while throwing and ends up pointing completely the wrong way. However, by amazing chance, the dart bounces off of a lamp sconce, ricochets off a mirror, whizzes through a passing patron's hat, and ends up stuck directly in the middle of the dartboard.
The bartender is stunned. He's also a little troubled, as he hasn't actually got 50 pounds on him. Thinking quickly, he says, "Look, see this aquarium behind the bar? That's a, um .... rare South American Womble Turtle. It's worth 100 quid. Here, I'll give you it since I'm short the cash."
He pulls the little pet turtle out of the fishtank and hands it to the drunk. The drunk takes the turtle happily. The bartender is relieved, gives him his whiskey, and pours him into a taxi.
Next evening, the same drunk turns up again. This time he's so pissed that he can barely make it in the door. Just like last time, he stamps up to the bar and demands whiskey. The bartender refuses, and again he offers to prove his sobriety on the dartboard. "Ah!" thinks the bartender. "Now that 50 pounds is mine. He'll never get a shot like that again." He takes the bet.
This time it's worse yet. The drunk nearly hits the ceiling with an almost completely vertical throw, but the ceiling fan knocks the dart flying across the bar where it glances off the table, pings off of a pint, and ends up quivering right in the center of the bull's eye. The drunk comes over feeling very full of himself; the bartender groans and scrambles around for something to give him.
"Look," he says, "I'm a little short on cash - let me give you some whiskey and, uh ... here, you can have the bottle."
The drunk looks at it owlishly, then puts it down on the bar.
"Naahhh," he says, shaking his head. "I've had enough for tonigh'. Gimma another onea them crunchy pies like you had last time."
A drunk walks into a bar, postively reeling, and orders a double whiskey. The bartender refuses to serve him. "No, go home, you tosser - you're too drunk already."
"I am not," declares the drunk, swaying unsteadily. "I'm perfecklish shober. Whiskey!"
The bartender rolls his eyes and starts around the bar to throw the drunk out. Then the drunk gets a gleam in his eye.
"Right! I can prove I's shober. An I gots 50 poundsh shays I'm right."
He slaps the money down on the bar. The bartender eyes the money.
"All right," he says, "how are you going to prove it?"
The drunk waves at the dart board. "Eashy! I hit tha' bullseye. No drunkish gonna to that."
"You're on!" says the bartender, thinking that the money is his.
The drunk picks up the dart. He staggers while throwing and ends up pointing completely the wrong way. However, by amazing chance, the dart bounces off of a lamp sconce, ricochets off a mirror, whizzes through a passing patron's hat, and ends up stuck directly in the middle of the dartboard.
The bartender is stunned. He's also a little troubled, as he hasn't actually got 50 pounds on him. Thinking quickly, he says, "Look, see this aquarium behind the bar? That's a, um .... rare South American Womble Turtle. It's worth 100 quid. Here, I'll give you it since I'm short the cash."
He pulls the little pet turtle out of the fishtank and hands it to the drunk. The drunk takes the turtle happily. The bartender is relieved, gives him his whiskey, and pours him into a taxi.
Next evening, the same drunk turns up again. This time he's so pissed that he can barely make it in the door. Just like last time, he stamps up to the bar and demands whiskey. The bartender refuses, and again he offers to prove his sobriety on the dartboard. "Ah!" thinks the bartender. "Now that 50 pounds is mine. He'll never get a shot like that again." He takes the bet.
This time it's worse yet. The drunk nearly hits the ceiling with an almost completely vertical throw, but the ceiling fan knocks the dart flying across the bar where it glances off the table, pings off of a pint, and ends up quivering right in the center of the bull's eye. The drunk comes over feeling very full of himself; the bartender groans and scrambles around for something to give him.
"Look," he says, "I'm a little short on cash - let me give you some whiskey and, uh ... here, you can have the bottle."
The drunk looks at it owlishly, then puts it down on the bar.
"Naahhh," he says, shaking his head. "I've had enough for tonigh'. Gimma another onea them crunchy pies like you had last time."
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