The Doberman Question

A highly timid little man, ventured into a biker bar in the Bronx and clearing his throat asked:

- Um, err, which of you gentlemen owns the Doberman tied outside to the parking meter?

A giant of a man, wearing biker leathers, his body hair growing out through the seams, turned slowly on his stool, looked down at the quivering little man and said:

- It's my dog. Why?

- Well, - squeaked the little man, obviously very nervous, - I believe my dog just killed it, sir.

- What? - roared the big man in disbelief.

- What in the hell kind of dog do you have?

- Sir, - answered the little man, - It's a four week old puppy.

- Bull! - roared the biker, - How could your puppy kill my Doberman?

- It appears that he choked on it, sir.