Boston, way back when. John and Gertrude are enjoying a quiet evening at home. John is reading the local paper. "Hey, look at this, Gertrude! Says King George just put a tax on our tea." "Yeah, so what's yer point, John? Just pay the darn tax." "But Gertie, we don't have a representative in the house of Lords or anything. We don't get any say in anything over there." "Oh quit yer bitchin' John. All you ever do is complain. I'm so sick and tired of you and your friends griping about taxation without representation and all that political crap. Why don't you either just shut up or go back to England?" **** A few nights later **** Gertie hears a racket outside the window and goes to check on it... "Hey! John! Come take a look at this!" "Looks like a bunch of injuns throwing something off the ships in the harbor, Gert." "Yeah, but who do you suppose they could be? We don't have any injuns around here." "Must be some of those complainers you're always telling to shup up or get out, Gert."