“Barbender, barbender, I would like a Martoutsy.”
The bartender brought her a Martini, which she drinks in one gulp.
“Barbender, I would like another Martoutsy”,
again the bartender brought her a Martini.
By this time the lady is leaning heavily forward, barely able to hang on.
“Barbender, your Martoutsys are giving me heartburn.”
Patiently, the bartender came near her and said,
“Lady, I am not a barbender, but a bartender, and what you have been drinking is not a Martoutsy, but a Martini, and finally, you do not have heartburn, your t!ts are hanging in the ashtray.”