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A man bursts into a bar, practically skidding to a halt in front of the bartender…
The man’s eyes are wild, and his voice is shaky as he demands, “Quick! Give me 10 shots of your strongest whisky!”
The bartender, caught off guard, hesitates for a second, but the man’s desperate expression convinces him to move fast…
He grabs ten shot glasses, lining them up in a neat row on the bar.
As he starts pouring the whisky, he notices the man already reaching for the first glass, his hand trembling slightly…
The man starts downing the shots as fast as the bartender can fill them, his face contorting with each burning gulp.
The bartender watches in disbelief, his brows furrowed in concern…
After the fifth shot, the bartender can’t hold back anymore and says, “Hey, slow down, buddy! You’re going to make yourself sick!”
The man barely pauses between shots to gasp, “Sick? You’d be drinking this fast too if you had what I have!”
Now the bartender’s alarm turns to outright worry…
“Why, what do you have?” asks the bartender.
The man slams down the final shot, his face flushed, and slowly, dramatically, he raises his eyes to meet the bartender’s gaze…
For a moment, there’s a tense silence.
Finally, the man replies…
“50 cents.”
