A duck walks into a pub in the East End of London, walks up to the bruiser of a barman 'got any crackers?'
the barman looks confused, 'no we don't sell crackers' and the duck leaves.
The next day, the duck walks back into the pub, up to the bar 'got any crackers?'
the barman, disgruntled replies 'i told you yesterday, we don't sell crackers' and the duck leaves
the following day, the duck walks into the pub, up to the bar, 'got any crackers'
by now, the barman is pissed off, 'i've told you twice, we don't sell crackers, if you ask me that one more time i'm going to nail your fucking beak to this bar' - the duck leaves
the following day, the duck walks into the pub, up to the bar, 'hello mate, got any nails?'
the barman's face creases in confusion, 'no, no nails'
'good, got any crackers?'