A young British lad finishes his shift down in the pits...

Walking into town, pickaxe over his shoulder, he finds himself craving a beer. Much to his dismay, however, every pub seems to be closed. Moving onward, he noticed that the local Conservative club's door is open. Somewhat reluctantly he walks inside and asks the man at the bar within for a pint.

"Sorry," the bartender replied, "we don't serve miners."

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