A man named Elliott walks into a bar
Struck squarely in the privates, Elliott crumples to his knees, visibly wracked with agony. Through his chuckles, the bartender observes, “Ooh, that’s got to sting!” Eventually regaining his footing, Elliott is met with the bartender’s suggestion, “How about a soothing drink to dull the pain?” Puzzled, Elliott scans the surroundings, questioning the bar’s existence in such an unexpected locale. Cozy and quaint, the establishment bears the hallmarks of history. With his composure restored and curiosity piqued, he accepts the offer of a beverage. “The pain’s gone!” he exclaims.
Elliott is ready to resume his trek, but the bar seems to hold him there, an obstacle he hadn’t anticipated. Clumsiness? Or an out-of-place tavern? A resolve takes hold – Elliott will relocate the bar to prevent future mishaps. Squatting for leverage, hands clasp the structure; a determined tug ensues, yet the bar stands firm. Unyielded by his initial attempt, Elliott summons all his strength for another pull. The bar resists, but he feels the slightest shift. Abruptly, a voice interrupts, “Hey hey, what’s going on here?!” Spinning around, Elliott meets the owner of the voice. “Who might you be?” he inquires. “That’s my establishment you’re manhandling,” the man declares, “and as I’ve already mentioned – I’m the bartender.”
