One fine Sunday in the local pub

An Irishman, an Englishman and a Scotsman walk into their neighborhood pub, and each orders a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and land in each of the pints.

The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away, and demands another.

The Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow.

The Irishman reaches into the glass, pinches the fly between his fingers, shakes him, and yells, "Spit it out, ya bastard! Spit it out!"