Elephant Ear on a Bun

My version of a traditional joke:

Amidst much fanfare, the new restaurant opened. The celebrity Chef was there, with the remains of the reality-TV cooking competition winner.

As an added bonus, the opening night came with a guarantee: If they didn’t have what you ordered, your meal was free. (And the winning patron would be allowed to yell at Chef.)

Tara had it figured out. She asked for elephant ear on a bun.

A few minutes later, the waiter came back. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “Is that African or Asian elephant?”

“Asian.”

The waiter went to the kitchen, then came back to the table.

“Male or female?”

“Male.”

Again, the waiter went to the kitchen, then returned.

“Old or young?”

“Old.”

“Pickled or dried?”

“Pickled.”

“With brine or vinegar?”

“Brine.”

A few minutes after the waiter went to the kitchen, Chef arrived at her table. He removed his hat and bowed before her.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We have the brine-pickled, old, male Asian elephant ear, but we’re all out of buns.”

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