Old Story

Casie is likely the onliest one who hasn't heard the folowing story, but guess she needs to know her daddie's frailties as well?

OK SPORT FANS

GRAB A COOL ADULT BEVERAGE, GET IN A COMFORTABLE
CHAIR, AND TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF (THIS MAY BE A LONG
STORY???)

ABOUT 1990 I ASSASINATED A WILD TOM TURKEY ON MY LONG
TERM DEER LEASE IN FREDERICKSBURG (MY FIRST TOM!)
ALTHOUGH I "CROCK-POTTED" THE VICTIM IN SOME QUALITY
ONION SOUP, IT WAS KINDA STRINGY AND NOT THAT TASTY.
BEING ONE WHO DOES NOT KILL GAME JUST FOR THE
WHATEVER, I DECIDED I WOULD NOT KILL ANOTHER WILD
TURKEY.

FAST FORWARD ABOUT 15 YEARS AND I BUY THE "TIN STAR
RANCH" AND DECIDE THAT IT WOULD BE COOL TO KILL (ONE,
UNO, 1, A SINGLE) WILD TOM TURKEY AND SAVE THE
BEARD/TAIL AS (HELL, I DON'T KNOW, JUST TO SAY I DID
ON MY OWN LAND FOR MY "OWN" TURKEY.
OK, AT THE TIN STAR TODAY (JUST FOOLING AROUND ABOUT
11:30a) AND NOTICE THREE TOM TURKS AT MY DEER FEEDER.
MY BRILLIANCE KICKS IN AND I DECIDE TO GET MY ONE AND
ONLY/LAST WILD TURKEY AS A "RANCH TROPHY"?????????
SO:::::: I SILENTLY/STEATHILY EASE/SLINK TO MY TRUCK
AND GET MY TRUSTEE FIREARM AND EVERY SO MORE
SECRETIVELY LOAD THREE SHELLS.

THE DISTANCE IS 115 STEPS (DETERMINED AFTER THE FACT)
AND I AM THE PICTURE OF CONFIDENCE AS I HAVE BONDED
WITH THIS LITTLE WEAPON THRU RANGE PRACTICE,
"SIGHTING-IN" AND METAPHYSICAL PRESTIDIGITATION.
OK, NOW THE TURKS ARE ABOUT THE SIZE OF TWO/THREE
FOOTBALLS AND I AM AT LEAST 100 YARDS AWAY (DON'T GO
TO SLEEP OR QUIT ON ME AS THIS STORY REALLY HAS AN
ENDING)

OLE DANIEL BOONE, JR., TAKES CAREFUL OFFHAND AIM AND
(CRAP) THE SAFETY IS ON??? OK, NOW JUNIOR BOONE AIMS
AGAIN AND SHOOTS THE SHOT OF THE CENTURY (EXCEPT THE
TURK JUMPS IN THE AIR AND GOES IN THE BRUSH)
OK, NOW JUVENILE BOONE HAS A BIT OF THE SHAKES AND
CHAMBERS THE NEXT FATAL ROUND. OFFHAND, THIS LETHAL
BLOW CAUSES THE TURK TO "JUMP IN THE AIR" AND RUN IN
THE BRUSH.

GOSH-OH-GEE-GOLLY-DARN-DIRTY-MOUTH-NASTY. baby boone
decides (in his heart pounding, hyper-ventilating
mode) that maybe resting the (damn throat cutting,
back-stabbing) traitor gun against a tree for support
will make the ole gray haired fat boy a better shot at
100 yards (did i mention this is a 30/30 lever action,
pawn shop cheapie that I wuz very proud of up to this
moment??)

NOW, we is into serious bizness: ole fat boy "eases"
up to a tree, takes a careful rest, breathes like a
pro, and SQUEEZED the trigger in order to see the last
remaining turk jump in the air and "run in the
brush".???????

Now see the fat boy, RUN back to the truck and GIT MO'
SHELLS, and try to git them loaded and back to the
action/?????
started toward the murderous turks and worked the
rifle action to git a round in the chamber?????? OK,
spit a good round on the ground as already had a
"round" in the chamber and just too dang 'cited to
know it???????

Now gonna INJUN from tree to tree to git whut is
rightfully mine (whatever that means cuz I don't like
the dang wild turkey meat anyway).
finally get to the edge of the brush, walk in like a
bengal tiger may jump on me at any minute and see:

THREE TURKEY TOMS LAID OUT IN A ROW (dead) LIKE THEY
WUZ FUNERALIZED AND JUST WAITING FOR DUMBUTT TO SEE
WHUT HAD HAPPENED???????????
what kin I say????????? (P.S. cleaning three turkeys
in one sittin' ain't whut i call a pick nick?) (doing
turkey jerkey the next few days so git out yur false
teeth and start practicing gnawing???)

f