(My version of one of my adopted home states)
Kansas, a sunburned guy in jeans/plaid shirt/clean boots is watching sports on TV. When the Royals or Chiefs are winning, he’s a big fan–they might as well be from Kansas. When they’re losing, he ignores them–they suck because they’re from Missouri. He’s drinking a Boulevard Wheat Beer. He figures it’s made with Kansas wheat, and that must be a picture of Kansas on the label. He proudly buys one for everyone, conveniently forgetting it’s made in Missouri.
Suddenly a storm blows up and the tornado sirens go off. Kansas leaves his beer on the bar and runs outside with Oklahoma and Texas to spot the funnel cloud, while everyone else takes shelter in the basement.
I thought Louisiana was the bar.