[Eric]

In the outback of Australia, a young English tourist was left with no option but to walk, after his rental car broke down. It was only a couple of klicks to the nearest village, a one-streeter called Mercy, pop. 14, but in the heat the tourist was in some danger of a serious sun stroke. But this is not a tragedy, and he did make it into the village, and, of course, this being Australia, the largest building in the town was the pub. The tourist, let's call him Lionel, went up to the bartender and ordered a cold beer. "Right out of beer, mate," said the lanky suntanned barkeep. "A nice tall gin and tonic, lots of ice," intoned Lionel. "We're out of most things; waiting for a delivery" offered the tarbender. "Do you have anything?" gasped Lionel, almost begging. The bartender suggested Koala tea: a mixture of dried Koala droppings with warm water, mint and sugar. With intense gratitude, which however did not alleviate the negative feelings he held for all colonials, Lionel accepted and chucked back the tea. "Tastes not bad," said Lionel, "but it is a little lumpy."
"Ah," said the bartender, "that's 'cause the Koala Tea of Mercy is not strained."

But I do like the "coffin" joke ... I will use it, and may acknowledge the source.