Guy walks into a saloon, there's a robot bartender shining a tumbler.
The robot says, "Yessir. What'll it be?"
The customer says, "Martini."
The robot brings back the best martini the customer's ever tasted. Then the robotender says to the customer: "Pardon me for prying, Sir, but might I inquire what your IQ is?"
The guy says, "168."
The robot launches into a discussion of Quantum Mechanics, Freud's theory of the death instinct and Wittgenstein's Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus.
With regret, the customer finishes his martini then departs.
But his interest has been piqued. So he spins a U-ey and walks back into the bar.
The robot bartender says, "Yessir. What'll it be?"
The guy says, "Martini."
The robotender concocts the transcendental martini, blended at the molecular level, while flinging the shaker ten feet into the air where it hovers for four seconds then executes a double gainer before landing perfectly in the robot's carbonfibre claw.
The robot bartender says, "Yessir. What'll it be?"
The guy says, "Martini."
The robotender concocts the transcendental martini, blended at the molecular level, while flinging the shaker ten feet into the air where it hovers for four seconds then executes a double gainer before landing perfectly in the robot's carbonfibre claw.
The robot places a napkin on the bar and sets the chilled glass with double olives in front of the customer.
"Pardon me for prying, Sir, but might I inquire what your IQ is?" inquires the robot.
The customer says, "100."
The robot immediately launches into a discussion of the Dodgers, the price of gasoline and those fucking Republicans.
He walks back into the bar.
The robot says, "Yessir. What'll it be?"
The guy says, "Martini" and the robot brings him a libation which, due to a sudden drop in localized isobaric pressure together with an unexpected spike in sunspot activity, may be the greatest martini he has ever served.
"Pardon me for prying, Sir, but might I inquire what your IQ is?" inquires the robot.
The customer says, "100."
The robot immediately launches into a discussion of the Dodgers, the price of gasoline and those fucking Republicans.
The customer finishes the martini with a sigh, finding this turn of events suddenly compelling. Reluctantly, he departs.
Out on the street, he decides to try it just one more time.
He walks back into the bar.
The robot says, "Yessir. What'll it be?"
The guy says, "Martini" and the robot brings him a libation which, due to a sudden drop in localized isobaric pressure together with an unexpected spike in sunspot activity, may be the greatest martini he has ever served.
Napkin. Double olives.
The robot then says, "Pardon me for prying, Sir, but might I inquire what your IQ is?"
The guy says, "Just under 60."
The robot leans in real close, lowers his voice and whispers: "Sir, I have certain information pertaining to the coming boom in the value of the US Dollar. Would you be interested in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?"
The robot then says, "Pardon me for prying, Sir, but might I inquire what your IQ is?"
The guy says, "Just under 60."
The robot leans in real close, lowers his voice and whispers: "Sir, I have certain information pertaining to the coming boom in the value of the US Dollar. Would you be interested in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?"
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