*40 hours later*
bartender [emaciated, finally draining the last dregs from his overworked ballsack]: there you go, sir.
me: this is disgusting. There's no head on it. Make me another.
*40 hours later*
bartender [emaciated, finally draining the last dregs from his overworked ballsack]: there you go, sir.
me: this is disgusting. There's no head on it. Make me another.