A skeleton strolled into the Pub, slapped $10 on the bar, and bellowed, “Barman, a beer and a mop, if you please!”
The Skeleton steadily drank the beer; he dutifully wiped the floor so it was fresh and clean.
The barman said. “Did that beer go down well?”
“Bloody brilliant mate,” The Skeleton said. “I was dying for a beer. But I got stuck in a 6 foot hole for a while and couldn’t get here”.
The Skeleton kept talking. “I have not been well lately. I feel stiff all over, and my joints are all seizing up, I am finding it bloody difficult to get around.”
“You are in luck,” said the barman. A chap in the lounge bar happens to be a surgeon, A doctor. You should wander into the Lounge bar and get an opinion.
“I will do that,” said the Skeleton, walking into the adjoining bar.
“Hello, Doc,” said the Skeleton. The Skeleton Then explained to the surgeon exactly what his problem was.
The surgeon bluntly told the Skeleton that he could not give consultation or treat just anybody who walked in off the street. He would be far better off making an appointment with his Local General Practitioner and getting a referral to a bone specialist.
“NO, NO NO!” the Skeleton erupted, his desperation palpable. “I need help NOW!”
“O.K.,” said the surgeon. “I can offer you some medical advice. What you need to do is call into the hardware shop on the other side of the street. Buy a can of CRC. That is a rust remover; it can loosen stiff joints, it’s also a lubricant. Just give your whole body a quick spray. A fine mist over your entire body and this will get you running again.”
This suggestion calmed the Skeleton, and he set off across the street to the hardware store.
A while later, the Skeleton burst his way back into the bar. “HELP ME!” he shouted. “I am rattling, shaking, my bones are all hanging loose. I cannot stand up properly.”
The surgeon's head shook in disbelief. “I said a fine mist, you foolish Skeleton!"
You stupid, stupid Skeleton. You have OVERDOSED”.