Delta Prime
- Jul 29, 2020
- 2,987
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2020
- Messages
- 2,987
An old man is sitting at the bar in a run-down joint, the only customer. The door bursts open, and this young tough in workout clothes bounds in. He looks around, sees the old man, grabs him, thrashes him, and leaves him unconscious on the floor. The young man looks at the bartender and says, “When that old geezer wakes up, tell him that was jiujitsu from Japan.”
A month or so later, the old man is back in the bar with a cast on one arm and a cane by his side. The door bursts open, the same young man bounds in, and again he proceeds to beat the old man in unconsciousness. Before he leaves, he turns to the appalled bartender and says, “When that ancient wreck comes to, tell him that was karate from Korea.”
About three months later, the old man is back in the bar, now with a neck brace and crutches. Sure enough, the door bursts open, the young man bounds in, and the bartender thinks, “I can’t watch this,” and buries his face in his hands. There are crashes, thuds, howls of pain, crunching sounds, and finally silence. The bartender looks up and is startled to see the young man on the floor, unconscious and with blood pooling around his head. The old man, blood spattered, is standing over him with a grim smile on his lips. He looks up at the bartender and says,
“When that young punk wakes up, tell him that was a crowbar from Sears.”
A month or so later, the old man is back in the bar with a cast on one arm and a cane by his side. The door bursts open, the same young man bounds in, and again he proceeds to beat the old man in unconsciousness. Before he leaves, he turns to the appalled bartender and says, “When that ancient wreck comes to, tell him that was karate from Korea.”
About three months later, the old man is back in the bar, now with a neck brace and crutches. Sure enough, the door bursts open, the young man bounds in, and the bartender thinks, “I can’t watch this,” and buries his face in his hands. There are crashes, thuds, howls of pain, crunching sounds, and finally silence. The bartender looks up and is startled to see the young man on the floor, unconscious and with blood pooling around his head. The old man, blood spattered, is standing over him with a grim smile on his lips. He looks up at the bartender and says,
“When that young punk wakes up, tell him that was a crowbar from Sears.”






