Irish Mick and I went for a slightly up-market pub dinner above Windermere on Tuesday. Afterwards, I went back to the bar:
Barmaid: Did you two enjoy your venison burgers?
Me: Yes, thanks, they were very nice—but they were dead deer.
Me: Sorry, that was just a joke.
Me: … A pun.
Me: … Well, a double-pun, really… Venison: dead deer.
Me: Two pints of bitter, please.