A big city lawyer went duck hunting in rural Tennessee. He shot a fat looking duck but it fell into a field on the other side of a fence. As the lawyer was climbing over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing.
The litigator responded, "I shot a duck and it fell in this field, and now
I'm going to retrieve it."
The old farmer replied, "This is my property, and so now the duck is my property."
The indignant lawyer said, "I am one of the best trial attorneys in the United States and, if you don't let me have that duck, I'll sue you and take you for everything you own."
The old farmer smiled and said, "Apparently, you don't know how we settle disagreements here in Tennessee. We settle small disagreements with the 'Three Kick
Rule.'"
The lawyer asked, "What's the 'Three Kick Rule'?"
The Farmer replied, "Well, because the dispute occurs on my land, I get to go first. I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on, back and forth until one of us gives up."
The attorney considered the matter and quickly decided that he could easily take the old codger. He agreed to abide by the local custom.
The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the attorney. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel-toed work boot into the lawyer's groin and dropped him to his knees. His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer's last meal gushing from his mouth. The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer's third kick to his rear end, sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie.
The lawyer lay there basically dead to the world but then swam back up to semi-consciousness and summoning every bit of his will he managed to get to his feet.
Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, "Okay, you old fart, now it's my turn."
The old farmer grinned at the attorney and said, "Nah, I give up. You can have the duck."
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3 comments:
Perfect.
that's a great joke - I shall re-tell it to my friends this weekend. Of course, I'll screw it up and forget the punch line like I always do, so perhaps I should just forward them a link to your blog.
As a hackneyed comedian, I only tell hunting jokes that end up with the old, powerful jerk shooting his hunting companion in the face. But I'll keep this in mind for twenty years from now, when my Cheney routine is losing a bit of its topicality.
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