A turtle bellied up to the bar, huffing and puffing.
The bartender said, "What'll you have?"
The turtle replied, "Whisky. Make it a double."
"Why so depressed?" the bartender asked.
Sipping on his drink, the turtle replied, "It took me two weeks to climb up this bar stool."
"But at least you made it," said the bartender. "You should be proud."
"I would be, but I forgot my wallet," sighed the turtle.
"Now, I'm depressed," said the bartender.
Overhearing the conversation, Floyd, the regular, warned the bartender, "Make sure you get paid. You know what deadbeats turtles can be . . ."