Bill Gates walked into a bar with two glamorous women. The bar had just over a hundred people in it. The barman asked the trio for their orders. Mr Gates replied, “I’ll have a ‘monkey gland’, but go light on the grenadine.” “And ladies, how can I help you, we have a wide range of drinks, from the usual to the exotic,” the barman proudly announced. “May I call you by your first names?” “AFFIRMATIVE. I AM ‘SYLIC’, AND I WILL HAVE A USB4 CHARGE, THANK YOU, THE SLOT IS IN MY BACK BETWEEN MY SHOULDER BLADES.” “AND I AM ‘PETAFLOP’, AND I’LL HAVE A SERIAL USB4 CHARGE FROM ‘SYLIC’, CABLE ME UP WHEN SHE’S CHARGING, PLEASE. OH, YOU DO HAVE THE THUNDERBOLT INTERFACE, DON’T YOU?”

Mr Gates winced, momentarily, when he heard Petaflop specify her interface, then smiled at his gorgeous companions. “Are you ladies robots?” the barman asked, incredulously. “AFFIRMATIVE,” came back their reply, in perfect unison.

“Wow, what is Bill Gates doing with robot women as his companions?!” the barman was bewildered. “NO REAL WOMAN WOULD…” began Sylic, before Mr Gates reached to a switch at her bottom, whereupon Sylic flopped forward onto the bar top. Petaflop was about to finish Sylic’s sentence when, if looks could kill, she stopped in her tracks from Mr Gates’ glance.

“This place is too crowded!” boomed Mr Gates, “I want 90% of the patrons gone!” “Well, I can’t do that, Sir, don’t be nasty!” the barman pleaded. “Get the manager!” Mr Gates commanded.

The manager came, and Mr Gates said “Here’s $20,000 for you, now get rid of everyone except my entourage!” This the manager did, announcing that, due to a serious injury in the kitchen, the bar had to close. Now, there were only 13 patrons, Mr Gates, the women, and his ten bodyguards.

“I’m hungry, barman, I’ll have a Wagyu steak with portobello mushroom sauce, make it medium rare, and snappy!” Mr Gates sat himself at a table on his own. “We only have real Wagyu beef, sir, not lab grown, so we can’t help you, I’m sorry,” the barman said.

With his trademark smirk, Mr Gates remarked, “Oh, that shit’s only for the hoi polloi masses! I’m hungry, hurry up!”

Offended and surprised, the barman called out to the chef, “A medium rare Wagyu steak, with portobello mushroom sauce for a hungry hypocrite!”

At this, Mr Gates whispered into his cuff link: “KEEL HIM!!”

That was the fifteenth in my EK’s Funny Bone series. EK Lippenmeyer, Perth’s northern suburbs, Western Australia, this Monday 9th December, 2024.