A true story from New Orleans during Prohibition:
My old Banker was there at a convention and a party of them went out on the town, one guy having a bottle of expensive, and hard to get bourbon.
They left the bottle on the table when they got up to dance and it was missing when they returned. There was an identical bottle a few tables away, and their host, a native of New Orleans, walked over to that table where the following conversation took place;
Banker: Do you live here in the city?
Bottle thief: Yes sir, I do.
Banker: Did you take that bottle from my table?
Thief: No Sir.
Banker: Have you ever screwed a nigra girl?
Thief: Of course not.
Banker: You lying bastard, I’m taking my whiskey back!
