A little dog goes into a saloon in the Wild West, and beckons to
the bartender. "Hey, bartender, gimmie a whiskey."
The bartender ignores him.
"Hey bartender, gimmie a whiskey."
"HEY BARMAN!! GIMMIE A WHISKEY!!"
The bartender takes out his six-shooter and shoots the dog in the
leg, and the dog runs out the saloon, howling in pain.
Three years later, the wee dog appears again, wearing boots,
jeans, chaps, a Stetson, gun belt, and guns. He ambles slowly into the
saloon, goes up to the bar, leans over it, and says to the bartender,
"I'm here t'git the man that shot muh paw."
I know you think you thought you knew what you thought I said,
but I'm not sure you understood what you thought I meant.