A tramp walks into a posh restaurant, sits down at a free table and wipes his nose on the tablecloth. He then begins to peruse the menu.
A smartly dressed waiter comes over, looks down his nose at the tramp and asks him in a haughty voice if he requires service. The waiter doesn't call security. He is a little cautious as sometimes they get some very eccentric millionaires and this apparent tramp could be one.
The conversation goes like this:
Waiter: (snootily) May I help you sir?
Tramp: ( farts loudly ), 'Ere, I'll 'ave some of that there gattox.
W: (baffled) I'm sorry sir, what was that?
T: (points to 'gateaux' on the menu) Look! Gattox.
W: Oh sir. That's 'gateau' (drawing out the last syllable with a superior tone in his voice).
T: Yer, well some of that then. How much is it?
W: Thirty pounds a slice sir.
T: What? (stands up). Well bolleau to that then! ( storms out).