Proving a point
Grandad December 17th, 2007
I bought myself an early Christmas present.
It’s a Barrett M-107 rifle.
I couldn’t wait to play with it, so the other day, Doc and I went off for a bit of hunting.
Tourists are pretty thin on the ground at the moment, but there are still a few around. We just had to rely on luck.
As it happened, we were in luck. We were up in one of the back valleys when Doc pointed. "There you go" he said, pointing to some woods on the far side of the valley. I got out the binoculars, and sure enough there were two of them. They were over a mile away, but I could see they were Canadians by the flags on their rucksacks.
As we watched, one of them got up and pulled down his trousers. He was obviously going to take a dump.
"F*ck" said Doc, "That’s disgusting"
"Quick" says I, "Which one?"
"The one on the right"
So the one on the right it was. I took quick aim and fired.
"Holy God" said Doc. "That was a brilliant shot."
"Not bad" says I. "It’s a damn good gun. And it proves one thing."
"What’s that?"
"Bears don’t shit in our woods!"
And if you don’t believe me, ask that bloke in Chicago who is missing a right testicle.
Subscribe to audio
