A drunk cowhand rushed into a bar
waving and firing his guns at random and shouting, "All you dirty, lousy
skunks get outta here."
Within a minute everybody had scattered
and disappeared except Mulla Nasrudin, who sat at the bar finishing his drink.
"Well," barked the cowhand,
waving his smoking gun. "What about it?"
"My," said the Mulla,
"THERE WERE CERTAINLY A LOT OF THEM, WEREN'T THEY?"
