Michael was on his deathbed and his best friend and pub buddy, Sean, had come to visit.

Michael: Well, Sean, we've lived the good life, haven't we? I guess I got no complaints.

Sean: Aye. Not bad a'tall.

Michael: Sean, I do have a tiny little request, if you'd oblige me.

Sean: An' w'at would that be, friend Michael?

Michael: Once they've covered me bones with dirt, would ye be so kind as to pour a quart of the finest Irish whiskey you can find over me grave?

Sean: A-a-w-w, Michael! To be sure! But tell me, friend Michael. Would it be okay with ya if I strained it through me kidneys first?