[ WP ] A newly-hired bartender is slowly realizing that he 's working at the bar from all of those `` X walks into a bar '' jokes .

`` Come on, man. *Again? *'' 
 
 I am so sick of cleaning up after all these goddamn animals. None of these fucking patrons seem to give a shit about the messes they were making. I signed up to serve drinks, not manage a fuckin' zoo. 
 
 Yeah, you had people bringing their dogs in. And pigs. And fucking toads. But that was n't even the weird part. I do n't know if it's the absurd number of pets we've got here, but we get more animals wandering around than a fuckin' rodeo. We got horses and ducks and you-name-it stumbling in here like they own the place. 
 
 And here's the kicker. *They order bloody drinks. * 
 
 And no one's even fazed by it! Not a single one of these patrons bats an eye! 
 
 Queerest bunch I ever met. There could be fire raining from the sky and these people would n't break stride. Just sitting there chit-chattin' the day away. Always in these diverse little groups of three. Like, I can understand how some blokes from northern Europe might sit down for a drink together. But priests and rabbis? Where do these guys keep coming from? 
 
 Hold up. Newcomer. 
 
 `` Hey, buddy. Watch out for the --'' 
 
 *DONG. * Every time! I do n't know why I bother warning them. Hell, I do n't know why we have a fucking pole right in the middle of our bar in the first place. Lord knows no one's ever put it to use. 
 
 Of course, the regulars do n't seem to mind. But then, they do n't mind anything. You've got your weird little threesomes and then fucking Science Corner over here. Men in lab coats who're convinced we serve hydrogen peroxide or some shit. And I ca n't tell you how many subatomic particles I've had to serve. At least that's what those science guys tell me they are. All I hear are these fucking voices, but I'll put a drink down all the same. 
 
 I'm not sure why I took this job. Or why I'm still here. Been here a month and I still do n't know what's going on. I should've been tipped off by the stories I heard when I started. Apparently the last bloke they hired died in a gunfight with a fucking *panda*. A panda! But who would believe that shit before they actually saw this place? 
 
 I guess it's not that bad. As weird as they are, these are all good guys. I ca n't say I've seen diverse groups like them get along so well before. And I'm not sure how, but Jeremy the grasshopper plays a mean piano. Folks love him so much we even named a drink after him here. Even Caesar's not so bad once he's had a martinus or five. 
 
 Of course, it's not all fun and games. Sometimes Tony clops in all miserable again, and we have to help him out. Always something new getting him down. I do n't mind. He's fun once we can cheer him up. 
 
 Ah, damn. You're going to have to excuse me for a minute, though. Looks like old Dyslexic Pat got himself stuck in some lingerie again. Man never learns.
