Kevin the publican is behind the bar one warm summer’s day when a goose wearing an orange vest waddles into his bar. The goose jumps up onto a chair, drops a $10 on the counter and orders a pint.
Kevin figures one of his mates is pulling his leg. He looks around, but no one else is in the pub except him and the goose.
He says, “Hang on, mate. You can’t be fair dinkum''?
The goose sighs. He says, “I’m just after one beer, all right. I’ve just finished work at the building site down the road, it’s been a scorcher and I’m parched. Please, can I have a beer? Then I’ll go.”
Kevin relents, gets the goose his beer and gives him his change.
Sure enough, the goose has his beer and leaves.
Kevin thinks about it all night. He tells all his customers, but none of them believe him. Kevin’s not even sure he believes it himself.
The next day, the goose returns around the same time. The only other customer in the pub - a regular called Norm - looks over, sees the goose and says, “Jesus fucking Christ, is that a goose in an orange vest''?
Kevin’s a little baffled, but glad he’s not going crazy. “Don't worry, Norm, he’s the goose I was telling you about.”
Norm says, “Fuck me! Let me buy him a beer.”
Kevin pours a pint and gives it to Norm, who walks it over to the goose. The goose seems surprised, takes the drink, then looks at him and says, “I’ve had a real rough day down at the building site and I just wanna drink a beer before I go home. I appreciate it, I really do''.
Norm says, “Fuck me, it talks!”
Seeing he’ll get no peace today, the goose downs his beer, thanks Norm and Kevin and makes his way out the door.
The third day, the goose returns. “I’m sure you’ve had a rough day at the site,” Kevin says.
The goose says, “Too right, mate. How’d you know?”
Kevin taps his nose. He says, “Mate, what if I said I knew a way to get you off that building site?”
The goose nods. “I’d say, pour me a beer and tell me all about it.”
“Well, I was raving about you all night to all my customers!” he says as he pours the goose his beer. “Turns out, one of them owns the big circus that’s just rolled into town. He says whatever you’re making down at the site, he’ll pay you four times that if you go and work for him.”
The goose sips his beer and contemplates. “The circus, hey? They’re those big tents with metal poles holding them up, aren’t they?”
Kevin says yeah, they are.
“And dirt floors?”
“Yes, mate. So what do you say?”
The goose goes, “Well, it’s a very nice offer and all, but what the fuck does he need a tiler for?”