Later that night, the same bear lurched towards the bar-counter and drunkenly said 'gimme a whiskey and....ahm....soda.'
The barman refused. 'You've had enough. Go home, my furry friend.'
Enraged, the bear sank his teeth into the counter, removing a large chunk. 'WHISKEY AND....AHM...SODA NOW!' he roared.
'Sorry,' said the barman, 'I don't serve drunken bears that take drugs.'
'Whaddya mean? Take drugs. I don't take drugs.'
'You don't?' Replied the barmen. 'What about that bar bit you ate?'