“So far I’m not liking this,” says the man.
“But I’ll bite. What’s the third act?”
“See old Mrs. Jennings down there?” asks the bartender, pointing to an old lady at the end of the bar with warts on her face.
“She hasn’t had sex in a long time.”
“You know what, I’m good,” says the guy. “Just bring me my usual.”
As the night goes on, one drink becomes many, and the guy decides he’s feeling pretty brave. “Aw, what the heck,” he thinks, and plops a $20 in the jar and heads over to the bouncer, punching him in the jaw as hard as he can.
The bouncer crumples to the floor as if made of paper.
“All right!” he yells. “Where’s that pit bull?!”
He runs downstairs and throughout the bar a howling is heard as if the gates of Hell have opened up, then silence. A few moments later, he comes running back up the stairs, a wild look in his eye.
“All right!” he says. “Where’s the lady with the abscessed tooth!?”
