Running Gag

A runaway slave, an illegal alien, and a terrorist walk into a bar.
The bartender asks, "What'll you guys have?"
The runaway slave says, "Freedom."
The illegal alien says, "Rights."
The terrorist says, "Both."
The bartender replies, "Too bad. We don't serve outlaws."
He asks the militia if they'd like another round.

The runaway slave, the illegal alien, and the terrorist go to another bar.
They settle in at a table.
The server asks them to leave.
"We can't," the terrorist protests. "We were about to order a bottle of your finest."
The server looks at the runaway slave. "You want the finest...before we execute you?"
She looks at the illegal alien. "You'd steal it like you stole our jobs."
She looks at the terrorist. "You'd make a bomb out of the bottle."
In comes a group of rowdy hockey fans.
The server asks the slave, the illegal, and the terrorist, "Please vacate this table so we can accommodate these lovely gentlemen."

My Black brother, my Latino brother, and I go to yet another bar.
Our White brother the bartender greets us with a "What's up?"
My Black brother orders freedom.
My Latino brother orders rights.
I order both.
The bartender replies, "Coming right up!"
He pours himself a shot of love when his boss isn't looking.
"Brothers," he says, "a toast."
And we don't know why, but we clink glasses with him.
We don't know why...but then again, we do.

The following night, a runaway slave, an illegal alien, and a terrorist walk into a bar...