“Great Nancy, but how?” asked Harry
“We’ll get some cheesy clothes and shoes, like most Middle-Class Americans wear, then stop at the pound and pick up a Labrador retriever. Then, we’ll go to a nice old country bar in Montana and show them how much admiration and respect we have for the hard working people living there.
So they did, and found just the place they were looking for in Bozeman, Montana. With the dog in tow, they walked inside and stepped up to the bar.
The Bartender took a step back and said, “Hey! Aren’t you Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi?”
“Yes we are!” said Nancy, “And what a lovely town you have here. We were passing through and Harry suggested we stop and take in some local color.”
They ordered a round of bourbon for the whole bar, and started chatting up a storm with anyone who would listen.
A few minutes later, a grizzled old rancher came in, walked up to the Labrador, lifted up its tail, looked underneath, shrugged his shoulders and walked out. A few moments later, in came another old rancher. He walked up to the dog, lifted up its tail, looked underneath, scratched his head and left the bar.
For the next hour, another dozen ranchers came in, lifted the dog’s tail, and left shaking their heads.
Finally, Nancy asked, “Why did all those old ranchers come in and look under the dog’s tail? Is it some sort of custom?”
“Lord no,” said the bartender. “Someone’s out there running around town, claiming there’s a Labrador Retriever in here with two assholes!”