Elderly chap in tweed and burgundy cords marches into the shop, walks to the counter and raps his cane on the desk.
"How's business then ?"
"Oh fine - and how much is your pension paying you each week ?"
(One day I will have the nerve to say rather than think it).
"Get yourself a gun or a damn heavy shillaleagh. Its going to get ugly out there. The plebs don't realise how bad things are going to get. They'll be riots. Better prepare yourself"
And marches out.