A highly timid little man, ventured into a biker brain the Bronx and clearing his throat asked, "Um, err,which of you gentlemen owns the Doberman tied outside to the parking meter? "A giant of a man, wearing biker leathers, his body hair growing out through the seams, turned slowly on his stool, looked down at the quivering little man and 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 the hell kind of dog do you have? "
"Sir," answered the little man, "It's a four week old puppy. "
"Bull! " roared the biker, "How could your puppy kill my Doberman? "
"It appears that he choked on it, sir. "
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