The Duck Hunter

Rated PG13

A hunter was able to obtain permission to hunt ducks on Farmer Brown's land. The hunter was hunkered down in his duck blind next to a small pond. It was opening morning of the duck hunting season just before daybreak. The hunter was anxious with anticipation. As the sun started to come up, the hunter began tooting on his duck call. Before long his efforts were rewarded. A large formation of ducks flew right over his position in the duck blind.

The hunter raised his shotgun and took careful aim. He flinched just as he pulled the trigger, and the shot went through the duck's wing. Although the wound was mortal, the duck managed to fly across the fence into Farmer Jones' property before falling. The duck fell right at the peak of Farmer Jones' barn roof, slid down to the edge, and finally flopped to the grownd next to the wall of the barn.

The hunter looked around in all directions. He hadn't gotten permission to go onto Farmer Jones' land, but he saw no harm in crossing the fence just long enough to retrieve the duck. The hunter crawled between the wires of the fence and walked over to the side of the barn where the duck had fallen. While he was bent over picking up the duck, the hunter felt something hard and cold pressing against the crack of his ass. A loud voice inquired "What the hell do you think you're doin' there, Boy?"

The hunter straightened up and turned around to see a very large, and very pissed Farmer Jones peering at him down the barrel of a double-barreled shotgun. The hunter gulped "I know I shouldn't have trespassed, but you see I shot this duck over across the fence where I had permission to hunt. It wasn't a clean shot so it flew over here before it fell down. I didn't think you'd mind if I just came over here to pick it up, but it appears you do mind."

The farmer growled "I don't think you city slickers understand how things are done around these here parts. That duck is on my land so it's MY duck!"

"But I shot the duck." the hunter protested, "And it might be the only one I see today. Please can't I have the duck?"

The farmer looked the hunter right in the eye and said, "Well, Boy. We do have a way of settling these kinds of matters around these parts."

The hunter said, "Anything, anything you say. I really want this duck."

"Okay," grunted the farmer. "The way we do around here is we'll face off and take turns kickin' eachother in the balls until there's only one of us left standing. The last one to fall gets to keep the duck."

The hunters eyes got wide and he looked at the farmer in disbelief. He gritted his teeth as he replied, "I can't go home empty handed, so lets get it over with."

The farmer nodded and added, "One more thing. This is my place so I get to go first." The hunter reluctantly agreed and turned to face the farmer. The farmer drew back his size thirteen farmer boot and kicked the hunter in the nuts so hard that the hunter's feet came clear off of the ground. The hunter made a horrible face and collapsed in a pile, groaning pitifully.

After a few moments the hunter gathered his legs back underneath him and was able to stand again. Looking the farmer right in the eye the hunter said, "Alright, Farmer Jones, now it's my turn."

The farmer answered, "I've changed my mind. You can have the duck."

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