DCSIMG

The Bar Man - Venison is always deer...

One of the joys of Christmas are the amusing little jokes that you find in crackers, so here for one week only is a special outing to our new pop up pub, the Christmas Cracker.

Our first visitor was a chap who came in with a roll of tarmac under his arm.

“I’ll have a pint for me and one for the road,” he said, before deciding that he would stay for a while and try the special off the menu. He thought of trying the Rudolph Stew, but it was expensive. Venison is always deer. Eventually he chose Chicken Tarka. It’s like Chicken Tikka but otter.

Next in was a cowboy wearing a paper shirt, paper trousers and paper shoes. Before he could order a drink, he was arrested for rustling. His dog was limping, with a bandaged foot. He was looking for the man who shot his paw.

Meanwhile, through in the other room, there was a bit of a disturbance. A firework was having a fight with a car battery. The prawn cocktail he threw was just for starters.

The outcome wasn’t really fair, as the battery was charged but the firework was let off.

Just as this was being sorted out, a spark plug tried to come in. The bouncers on the door were understandably reluctant, but finally agreed to allow the spark plug to enter if he promised not to start anything.

He was lucky. When the font came in he was told “We don’t serve your type.” The football was kicked out and Shakespeare was no more successful. He was bard.

On the other hand, the neutron was very welcome. “For you, no charge.” His friend, the hydrogen atom was upset. “I’ve lost my electron,” he moaned. The barman said sympathetically “Are you positive?”

Just when you thought that things could not get any stranger, a white horse came up to the bar and ordered a whisky.

The barman was amazed. “I don’t know what is more unusual,” he said. “The fact that a horse can talk or that we have a whisky named after you.”

“In that case,” said the horse, “I’ll have a Dobbin.”

His mate, the bear, ordered a Dobbin and ………..soda. “Why the big pause?” asked the barman. “Dunno,” said the bear, “I’ve always had them.”

Meanwhile, the termite asked “Is the bar tender here?” while the skeleton wanted a pint and a mop.

That’s it for another year and as the Christmas Cracker disappears leaving only fond memories, I’m off to puzzle out why, in a former life, Lauren used to tell me: “You’re not funny.”

I leave you with the wise words of Bob Monkhouse: “When I was little I used to tell people that I wanted to be a comedian when I grew up. They laughed at me. They’re not laughing now.”

bar.man@btinternet.com


 
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Sunday 19 May 2013

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