A group of loud and rowdy
drunks were making a racket in the
street. It was the wee small hours
of the morning and the lady of the
house flung open a window and
shouted at them to keep quiet.
„Is this where Frank lives?“ one of
the drunks asked.
„Yes, it is,“ the woman replied.
„Well
then,“ said the drunk, „Could you come and pick him out so the
rest
of us can go home?“
