The horse lowers his head in shame and mutters, “Don’t know. I’ve had it all my life. Right rope?” Suddenly, the rope binding the horse’s tail unties and leaps onto the barstool.

“I’ll have a Guinness,” said the rope. “I’m sorry,” replied the barkeep, “we don’t serve rope in here.” The rope, insulted by the barkeep, ties himself in a hitch and tosses his hair.

He asks again, “May I please have a Guinness.” The barkeep responds, “I told you, we don’t serve rope in here.”