A man is out hunting and shoots a duck. The duck falls on the far side of a fence, in a farmer’s pasture. The hunter climbs over to retrieve it.
The farmer storms over and says, “Hey! That’s my land. That duck is mine.”
The hunter says, “I shot it fair and square. It’s my duck.”
They argue back and forth until the farmer says, “Tell you what. We’ll settle this the old country way — a kicking contest.”
The hunter asks, “What kind of kicking contest?”
The farmer says, “We take turns kicking each other… right in the balls. Whoever quits first loses. Winner gets the duck.”
The hunter hesitates, but really wants that duck, so he agrees.
The farmer goes first. He winds up and kicks the hunter hard. The hunter collapses, turns purple, groans, and lies there for several minutes before finally staggering back to his feet still reeling from agony.
The hunter mutters through blue lips, “Alright. My turn.” He straightens up, looks at the target, thinks for a long moment, preparing to lay in a good destructive kick!
Jest then the farmer holds up his hand and says:
“Ok, you win. You can keep the duck.”
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