Prat

A Brit walked into an American restaurant

Asked for a plate of chips

Confused, the bartender pulled out a packet of Lays

Laid it on a plate and offered it, poker faced

The Brit was enraged

“These are crisps, not chips innit,” he said

“What the duck is a crisp?” said the American, pissed

“You’re uh bloody prat, an absolute twat,” 

The Brit was now burning up and mad

As entitled as a Brit could be, he gave the bartender a slap

“That’s it bruv, you’re getting clapped”

They exchanged more slaps and kicks and punches

A pure kerfuffle stretching two continents

Foul fingers were raised and the Brit was offered a sandwich

Unfortunately not lobster, but instead knuckle 

The cops came to the scene and passively watched and gleamed

They might now be bleeding, but at least they are white

A Syrian customer now arrived

He wanted some chips, the American kind

The fighting duo noticed and stopped the fight

They looked each other in the eye and nodded

Knocking the plate to the ground

sending the chips scuttling around

“Imperialism, am I right?”

They laughed and gleefully agreed

There was no confusion this time around

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