So a pirate walks into a bar, okay, and swaggers up to the barkeep and demands a glass of rum. I believe his exact words were "Your rum or your life, dog, what'll it be?".
And so the bartender, being a reasonable fellow, makes no complaint but simply grabs a large glass, a bottle of fine dark rum, and begins to pour. And while he's waiting for the glass to fill (this being, as I said before, a large glass) he sizes up the pirate, having never seen a real honest-to-God pirate before.
This pirate is in full pirate gear. Gold earrings, patch over the eye, a big filthy white blouse covering his swarthy chest, tattoos everywhere, all of it. But protruding from his pirate trousers is the unmistakable form of a steering wheel.
Well, the bartender sees that the glass of rum is just about topped off, so he passes the glass across the bar to the pirate, who nods curtly and takes a huge swig of the rum. Slapping a dubloon on the bartop, he turns to walk away, when our bartender's curiousity gets the best of him.
"Wait, one second. What's up with the steering wheel?"
And the pirate turns back and fixes him with a beady glare from his lone eye. "Arrr, I don't know, but it's drivin' me nuts!"
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