A very drunk man stumbled into a tough biker bar, the kind of place where even the walls looked intimidating.
He spotted three huge bikers sitting together in the corner and, for some reason, decided the biggest one looked like the perfect person to annoy.
He walked over, leaned against the table, and started talking trash.
“Your grandmother is a lovely woman,” he said.
The biker slowly looked up.
The drunk man grinned.
“Actually… I’ve been with her.”
The other bikers immediately went silent.
They looked at their friend, expecting him to explode.
But the big biker didn’t say a word.
The drunk man, encouraged by the silence, pushed his luck even further.
“Yeah, your grandma and I had a great time!”
Still nothing.
Finally, the biker stood up, calmly grabbed the drunk man by the shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Grandpa…”
The drunk man blinked.
The biker sighed.
“Go home. You’re drunk.”
The entire bar suddenly went silent.
The drunk man stared at him for a few seconds.
Then he whispered:
“Wait… we’re related?!”
