Today's suggestion comes courtesy of Beverly Diehl:
A goat walks into a bar. The bartender steps outside and calls, "Hello? Anybody out here? We've got your goat."
"Very funny, kid."
"Whatever, you old goat. Now what do you want? And be quick about it. You shouldn't be in here."
"I want two things. First, a can of Coke, hold the Coke."
"You gonna eat the can? What a pig."
"A pig, me? Please. Second, I'm collecting donations for the Cub Scouts—"
"Curse the Cubs!"
The manager steps up behind the bartender and smacks him with a pan. "Billy! Don't be so gruff with the customers."
"Now get back behind the bar. And don't just stand there. Look alive, stock the shelves or something." He turns back to the goat as Billy heads to the bar. "Sorry about that. That kid's on rocky ground; complaints against him are mountin'."
"Maybe I should go."
"Nonsense, come to the kitchen with—"
"Yes, you should go!" yells Billy.
"Stay out of this! Again, I'm sorry. He's always trying to horn in on my private conversations. But, if you'll join me in the kitchen, we can talk about a donation."
"That's very kind."
They start walking toward the back. "So, Goat, heard of mutton curry? I'm just about to start a batch." The manager licks his lips.
Billy reaches out from behind the bar and grabs the goat as they pass. He whispers intensely, "Escape, Goat, while you still can. I tried to drive you off, but—"
There is a loud clang, and the bartender slumps to the floor. The manager places the pan on the counter, and puts his hand on the goat's shoulders, shepherding it into the kitchen.
"You know, if you don't mind staying a little while... I'd love to have you for dinner."
And then there was one. Only one more thing will be entering the bar.
And it's me.