A highly timid little man, ventured into a biker barin the Bronx and clearing his throat asked, „Um, err,which of you gentlemen owns the Doberman tied outsideto the parking meter?“A giant of a man, wearing biker leathers, his bodyhair growing out through the seams, turned slowly onhis stool, looked down at the quivering little manand said, „It’s my dog. Why?““Well,“ squeaked the little man, obviously very nervous,“I believe my dog just killed it, sir.““What?“ roared the big man in disbelief. „What in thehell kind of dog do you have?““Sir,“ answered the little man, „It’s a four week oldpuppy.““Bull!“ roared the biker, „How could your puppy kill myDoberman?““It appears that he choked on it, sir.“
