[UK] Roads Lead Many Places.

The M25 walks into a bar, punches the M1, spits on the M4, and kicks the stool out from under the M40 before ordering a drink. The bar-road shakes as he passes the drink over, terrified of what the M25 might do. All of a sudden, a short, skinny piece of red tarmac walks in and the M25 dives under a table, cowering til the red tarmac has left. The other roads laugh at him and the M1 asks what's wrong. "Hard bastard I might be mate, but that red thing's a bleedin' cycle-path!"