A wealthy businessman takes several of his prominent clients to a local piano bar in a trendy part of town. After a short time a pianist takes the stage to polite applause, thanks the audience for the welcome and begins to play at which point he launches into a foul mouthed rugby song sprinkled with the words cock, c***, shag and t*** before a member of staff approaches him and quickly ushers him off the stage. He returns 10 minutes later, apologises to the audience, and begins to play again and plays a medly of beautiful classics that would put Richard Clayderman to shame. He exites the stage to warm applause and calls for more.
The businessman is clearly impressed and approaches the pianist to ask if he plays private functions, as his daughters 21st birthday party is upcoming and he would like some classical background music - the pianist is delighted to confirm his availability at which point the businessman stresses "Please make sure you play your classical medly and not the foul mouthed ranting song I heard earlier,"
"No problem," says the pianist, "Know your audience etc etc"
The day of the party arrives, with a huge guest list. The pianist takes the stage to warm applause and wishes the businessmans daughter the best for her birthday. He sits down at the piano and immediately launches into a filthy song liberally sprinkled with words like s***, w***, funk and pissflaps. The businessman rushes to the stage, grabs the pianist and asks him what the hell he's doing and why isn't he playing the classical stuff.
"Dreadfully sorry," says the pianist, "but in order to be able to play my best stuff I must have ejaculated shortly before going on stage."
"Well," says the businessman, "Perhaps you should go upstairs and have a five finger shuffle to sort things out," and he sends him quickly up to a private room to deal with the problem. 5 minutes later the pianist rushes backto the stage and apologises for the delay - unfortunately in his haste he has neglected to zip up his flies but fails to notice his error.
His first number is raptuously received for its classical beauty and is greeted to warm applause. The pianist finishes and stands up and bows to the audience, completely unaware of his obviously problem downstairs. A man in the front row leans forward and whispers to the pianist "Excuse me mate but do you know your cocks hanging out and there's come all over it?"
"Know it," exclaims the pianist with glee, "I f***ing wrote it"