A piece of string walks into a bar and asks for a lager.
The barman enquires “Are you a piece of string?”
“Of course, I am a piece of string.” The string replies.
“I’m sorry...”, says the barman, “...but we don’t serve string in this establishment. ”
The string walks out of the bar, throws himself into the gutter, rolls around in the dirt, throws himself against the wall and generally roughs himself up.
He walks back into the bar and again asks for a lager.
“Aren’t you a piece of string?” The barman asks.
“Frayed Knot!”
Hat, coat......