An Irishman with a game leg walks into a saloon. He drags his bad leg up to the bar and orders an Irish whiskey. Then he looks around and sees a long-haired, bearded guy in a robe sitting at the end of the bar.
“Is that Christ our Lord?” he asks the bartender.
“Yes it is,” the bartender replies.
“Well, let me buy him an Irish whiskey too” the Irishman responds.
They’re sitting nursing their drinks when a hunchback Italian walks in and orders a glass of Chianti. He too spots Jesus.
“Is that the Son of the Blessed Virgin?” he asks the bartender, and the bartender replies in the affirmative. “Let me catch him a glass of Chianti too,” the Italian offers.
Just then the barroom door bursts open and a fireman swaggers up to the rail. “Gimme a cold one, bartender,” the fire-fighter orders. And, spotting Jesus, he adds, “Hey, is that God’s little boy? Get him a cold one too.”
Jesus eventually finishes his drinks and comes over to the Irishman, the Italian and the fire-fighter to thank them. He touches the Irishman’s shoulder and says thanks, and the fellow’s leg magically is fully functional. The Irishman does a jig in celebration.
Christ then approaches the Italian, thanks him and touches him on the shoulder, and the Italian’s back straightens for the first time in his life.
Then Christ approaches the fire-fighter, but the fire-fighter backs away. “Don’t touch me!” he screams. “I’m on disability!”