Bob calls his buddy Sam, the horse rancher, and says he’s sending a friend over to look at a horse. Sam asks “How will I recognize him?” That’s easy, he’s a midget with a speech impediment.”
So, the midget shows up, and Sam asks him if he’s looking for a male or female horse. “A female horth.” So he shows him a prized filly.
“Nith lookin horth. Can I thee her eyeth”? Sam picks up the midget and he gives the horse’s eyes the once over. “Nith eyeth, can I thee her earzth”? So he picks the little fella up again, and shows him the horse’s ears. “Nith earzth, can I see her mouf”? The rancher is gettin’ pretty ticked off by this point, but he picks him up again and shows him the horse’s mouth. “Nice mouf, can I see her twat”? Totally mad at this point, the rancher grabs him under his arms and rams the midget’s head as far as he can up the horse’s twat, pulls him out and slams him on the ground.
The midget gets up, sputtering and coughing.
“Perhapth I should rephrase that; Can I thee her wun awound a widdlebit?”