They're being loud and rowdy, real frat-boy types, and they're starting to get on everyone's nerves. After a while they go up to the bar and yell for the bartender.
"Hey bartender, gimme an Irish Car Bomb!" one says.
Now, you can probably guess it's a bit of a faux pas to order this mixture of Guinness, Bailey's and Jameson in Ireland. And a few patrons at the bar get really tense when they hear the Americans' order. But the bartender keeps his composure.
"You know, fellas, we don't really drink that around these parts. How'd you like to try a real local specialty?"
"Sure, why not?" the Americans shrug.
The bartender pulls out two long, tall glasses and whips up a couple Long Island Ice Teas. He tops each one off with a cherry. Then, for a coup de grace, he pulls out a lighter and ignites the top of the drinks, a la a Flaming Moe. He pushes them over to the Americans.
"Huh, this is weird. Whaddya call this?"
"IT'S A FUCKING 9/11, ASSHOLES," the bartender yells.
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