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A bar owner in the Old West has just hired a timid new bartender. The owner of the establishment is giving his new hire some instructions on running the place. He tells the timid man, “If you ever hear that Big John is coming to town, drop everything and run for the hills! He’s the meanest, biggest, nastiest outlaw who ever lived!”
A few weeks pass uneventfully. One afternoon, a local cowhand comes running through town yelling, “Big John is coming to town! Run for your lives!”
When the bartender exits the saloon to start running, he’s knocked to the ground by several townspeople scurrying out of town. As he’s picking himself up, he sees a large man approaching the saloon, probably about 7 feet tall, muscular, grunting and growling as he walks.
He stomps up to the door, orders the poor barkeep inside, and demands, “I want a beer now!”
He pounds his heavy fist on the bar, nearly splitting it in half. The bartender nervously hands the big man a beer, hands shaking. He takes the beer, rips the top of the bottle off with his teeth, and downs the beer in one gulp.
As the poor timid bartender cowers behind the bar, the big man gets up to leave. “Do you want another beer?” the bartender calls out.
“Dang it, I don’t have time!” the big man yells. “I gotta get out of town. Didn’t ya hear Big John is a-comin?”