Bruce, in a state of excessive inebriation, rolled up at a fairground rifle range booth and threw down the necessary money.
The booth operator at first refused to let him have a turn, considering that his inebriated state would endanger the public. But the drunk insisted and was given a gun.
He aimed unsteadily in the general direction of the target and after trying to focus, pulled the trigger three times. The booth owner, on inspecting the target, was astonished to see that he had scored three bullseyes.
The star prize for the evening was a large set of dinnerware, but the booth operator was certain that drunken Bruce wasn’t aware of what he had done, and gave him instead a consolation prize, a turtle. Bruce tottered off into the crowd.
An hour or so later Bruce came back, even more drunk than before. Once again the booth operator demurred, but once again Bruce insisted, and once more scored three bullseyes and was given another turtle.
Eventually Bruce rolled up again and insisted on a third attempt. Once more he picked up the rifle, waved it around in the general direction of the target, and pulled the trigger three times. And again, he had scored three bullseyes. But this time there was an onlooker with good eyesight who had watched Bruce closely.
“That’s fantastic,” the man said. “Hasn’t he scored three bulls?”
The booth operator, cursing his luck, made a play of going over to the target and inspecting it closely.
“Yes, sir!” he announced to the crowd. “This is fantastic! Congratulations, sir, you have won the star prize, this magnificent 68-piece set of dinnerware.”
“I don’t want any bloody plates,” slurred Bruce. “Give me another one of those crusty meat pies.”