It was New Year’s Eve,
and three bikers were sitting in a bar when a man stumbled in, clearly already drunk. He sat at the counter, ordered a drink, then looked around and spotted the three men at a corner table.
After a moment, he got up, staggered over, leaned across the table, stared at the biggest biker and slurred, “I went by your grandma’s house tonight. Saw her in the hallway—buck naked. Man, she is fine!”
The biker didn’t say a word. His buddies looked at each other, puzzled. This guy was known to be tough—ready to swing at the drop of a hat—yet he just sat there quietly.
The drunk leaned in again. “I got it on with your grandma, and she was good. The best I ever had!”
Still, the biker said nothing. His friends were getting tense now, waiting for him to snap.
Then the drunk said, “And you know what, boy? Your grandma liked it!”
Finally, the biker stood up, calmly put a hand on the man’s shoulder, and said, “Grandpa, you’re drunk. Go home.”
After a moment, he got up, staggered over, leaned across the table, stared at the biggest biker and slurred, “I went by your grandma’s house tonight. Saw her in the hallway—buck naked. Man, she is fine!”
The biker didn’t say a word. His buddies looked at each other, puzzled. This guy was known to be tough—ready to swing at the drop of a hat—yet he just sat there quietly.
The drunk leaned in again. “I got it on with your grandma, and she was good. The best I ever had!”
Still, the biker said nothing. His friends were getting tense now, waiting for him to snap.
Then the drunk said, “And you know what, boy? Your grandma liked it!”
Finally, the biker stood up, calmly put a hand on the man’s shoulder, and said, “Grandpa, you’re drunk. Go home.”
