Drinking with my brothers

Paddy, just moved to Liverpool from Cork, walks into a pub and orders three pints of Guinness. He sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar to order three more.
The bartender approaches and tells him, “You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it. It would taste better if you bought one at a time.”
Paddy replies, “Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is an accountant the other is a solicitor, both living in London. When we all left our home in Cork, we promised that we’d drink this way to remember the days when we drank together. So I’m drinking one beer for each of my brothers and one for myself.”

The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.
Paddy becomes a regular in the pub and always drinks the same way. He orders three pints and drinks them in turn.
One day, he comes in and only orders two. All the regulars take notice and fall silent.

When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, “I don’t want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss”.
Paddy looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns in his eyes and he laughs.
“Oh, no, everybody’s just fine,” he explains, “It’s just that my wife and I joined the Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking.”

“Hasn’t affected my brothers though….”

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