The waiter is naturally taken aback and replies, "Excuse me sir but could you please refrain from using that sort of language in here, I will get the manager as soon as I can".
"I want to see the cunt, and I want to see the cunt now!", replies the man, staring wildly at the waiter. The manager comes over and the bloke asks, "Are you the fucking wank stain manager of this twat-hole joint?".
"Yes sir, I am", replies the manager, "but I would prefer it if you could refrain from speaking such profanities in this, a private and exclusive restaurant".
"Fuck off, quim-face ", replies the bloke, "Where's the fucking piano?"
"Pardon ?" says the manager.
"Fucking deaf as well, are you? You little piece of snivelling shit, show us your pissing piano or I'll fucking twat you."
"Ahhhh !" replies the manager, "you've come about the pianist job" and shows the bloke to the piano.
"Can you play any blues?".
"Of course I can..." and the bloke proceeds to play the most melancholy blues that the manager has ever heard.
"That's superb. What's it called?"
"I want to fuck your wife on the sofa but the springs keep sticking in my knob," replies the bloke.
The manager is a bit disturbed and asks if the bloke knows any jazz. The bloke proceeds, playing the most rhythmically complex jazz solo the manager has ever heard.
"Magnificent !" cries the manager "What's it called?"
"I tried to wank over the washin' machine but me balls got caught in the soap drawer".
The manager is a tad embarrassed and asks if he knows any romantic ballads, The bloke then plays the most heartbreaking melody that brings a tear to his eye and a lump into his throat.
"That's beautiful, what's that called ?" asks the manager.
"I like to fuck you under the stars with the moonlight shining off your hairy ring-piece," replies the bloke.
The manager is highly upset by the bloke's language but his music is so good he offers him the job on condition that he doesn't introduce any of his songs or talk to any of the customers.
This arrangement works well for a couple of months until one night the bloke is playing his piano and sitting opposite him is the most gorgeous blonde he has ever laid his eyes on. She's wearing an almost see-through dress, her tits are falling out the top of her tight lace bra, and the skimpy little 'G' string she's wearing is showing clearly through the tight material over her gorgeous arse. She is sitting there with her legs slightly open sucking suggestively on asparagus shoots and the butter is dripping down her chin!
It's too much for the pianist and he stops playing and runs off to the bogs to 'wrestle with his bald headed chap'.
He's pulling away furiously when he hears the managers voice: "Where's that pianist gone?".
He just has time to shoot his bolt and in a fluster he runs back to the piano, sits down and starts playing some more tunes.
The blonde gets up off her bar-stool and walks seductively over to the piano, leans over in front of him and whispers in his ear, "Do you know your knob and bollocks are hanging out your trousers and dripping cum onto your shoes?".
The bloke replies "Know it? I fucking wrote it..."