A group of loud and rowdy drunks were making a racket in the street.
It was the wee small hours of the morning and the lady of the house flung open a window and shouted at them to keep quiet.
"Is this where Banta lives?" one of the drunks asked.
"Yes, it is," the woman replied.
"Well then," said the drunk, "Could you come and pick him out so the rest of us can go home?"