A man died in a horrible fire. The mortician thought it was Fergus McCarthy, but the body was so badly burned that somebody would need to make a positive identification. That task fell to Fergus' two friends, Martin and Ellis.
Martin: "He's burnt pretty bad, all right. Roll him over." Ellis looked at the dead man's buttocks and said, "Nope, that ain't Fergus."
Thinking the incident strange, the mortician straightened up the body and said nothing. He brought in Martin.
Martin: "Wow, he's burnt to a crisp. Roll him over." Again, "Nope, that ain't Fergus."
Mortician: "How can you tell?"
Martin: "Fergus had two assholes."
Mortician: "What? How could he have two assholes?"
Al: "Everybody knew Fergus had two assholes. Whenever the three of us would go into town you'd hear people say, "Here comes Fergus with those two assholes!"