A black piece of tarmac walks into a bar and asks for a pint of lager.
'I can't serve you, you're a piece of tarmac', says the landlord.
'Look, I have money and I can behave myself, anyhow I'm feeling a bit run down. Just serve me the pint', says the black tarmac.
The landlord serves him a pint. A few minutes later a red piece of tarmac walks in. 'Pint of lager please,' he says.
The black piece of tarmac looks terrified. 'For the love of God, don't serve him!' he shouts. The landlord is unimpressed. 'I served you, he's getting a pint too, you're no different', he says. He pulls the pint, but then finds that the beer's off, so goes down to the cellar to sort out a new barrel. When he comes back up the bar is wrecked and there are bleeding punters lying everywhere. The red tarmac is gone and the black tarmac is sitting in a corner crying. 'What the hell happened here?' he asks horrified.
'I told you not to serve him!' the black tarmac shouts. 'He's a cycle path!'
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