A drunken cowboy lay sprawled across three entire seats in the posh
Amarillo Theater.
When the usher came by and noticed this, he whispered to the cowboy,
"Sorry, sir, but you're only allowed one seat."
The cowboy groaned but didn't budge.
The usher became more impatient:
"Sir, if you don't get up from there I 'm going to have to call the manager."
Once again, the cowboy just groaned. The usher marched briskly back up
the aisle, and in a moment he returned with the manager.
Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move the cowboy,
but with no success.
Finally they summoned the police.
The Texas Ranger surveyed the situation briefly, then asked,
"All right buddy, what's your name?"
"Fred," the cowboy moaned.
"Where ya from, Fred?" asked the Ranger.
With terrible pain in his voice, and without moving a muscle, Fred
replied: "...The Balcony..."
Amarillo Theater.
When the usher came by and noticed this, he whispered to the cowboy,
"Sorry, sir, but you're only allowed one seat."
The cowboy groaned but didn't budge.
The usher became more impatient:
"Sir, if you don't get up from there I 'm going to have to call the manager."
Once again, the cowboy just groaned. The usher marched briskly back up
the aisle, and in a moment he returned with the manager.
Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move the cowboy,
but with no success.
Finally they summoned the police.
The Texas Ranger surveyed the situation briefly, then asked,
"All right buddy, what's your name?"
"Fred," the cowboy moaned.
"Where ya from, Fred?" asked the Ranger.
With terrible pain in his voice, and without moving a muscle, Fred
replied: "...The Balcony..."
