“The Shortcut”
Finally! Here they come... sneaking down along the edge of the woods. A Grandfather Tom and his hen girlfriend! Wow! That beard must be 20” long! He raised his gun, took careful aim and had him dead in my sights.
Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Ding-a-ling-a-ling! He jumped at the noise, dropped his gun and the Turkeys were gone before the second ring echoed through the quiet of the forest. “Oh Darn”, said John. “The biggest Tom I ever saw and the #@#$%^ phone has to ring.” Taking off his gloves and digging to get the phone out of his camouflage clothing, John was trying to think what he was going to say to the idiot who screwed up his turkey hunt. When he put the phone to his ear, the voice of his son boomed out “Get ready Pa, there’s a couple of nice one’s heading right toward you!”
“They were, till the #@#$%^ phone rang and scared them off! Biggest Tom I ever seen and the little hen for desert! But NOOOOO, the phone rings and off they go!” says John in his calmest voice, which wasn’t too calm.
John couldn’t sit still after that. His adrenaline was flowing a mile a minute and he had to do something. “I guess it’s time to call it a morning. Go get something to eat and rest up for the afternoon hunt. It’s a long walk back to the cabin... gotta find a shorter way.” thought John.
The rain started as he was walking alongside the plowed field, heading to the cabin. A couple of cups of coffee and a little nappy-poo and he would be in good shape. This was the last day of the fall hunt and he hadn’t bagged his bird yet. “I feel like tonight is going to be different.” he thought. Little did he know how different!
Later that day, after regaining his composure which was totally lost due the #@#$%^ phone, he was getting set for the afternoon hunt. Thinking abut that huge Tom, he could almost taste him! “I’m sure that bugger will bring his bride back to my blind this afternoon.” John thought. The rain had not lasted too long, just long enough to make things wet and messy. John dressed up in his best camouflage, pulled on his boots and got ready to hit the trail. “Should I bring that #@#$%^ phone with? Might ring again and scare off old Tom and his girl... yeah, never know when something will happen and I may want to hear the sweet voice of my lovely bride Sandie. But I have to figure out how to turn the thing off until I need it.” Dropping it in his pocket, he grabbed his gun and headed for the woods.
Walking along the edge of the plowed field, he glanced across the the expanse of rich black earth and saw the area where his blind was. He also saw that it was still along way around the field.
“Maybe I’ll just cut straight across and save my poor tired knees the misery of that long walk. Yeah, that will give me plenty of time to settle in and get ready for Grandpa Tom and company.” His mind made up, and once his mind was made up there was no changing it, he headed merrily across the furrows of mud towards his blind.
“Damn! I should have taken a longer nappy-poo. My legs are already getting tired!” Moving ahead, he noticed the sticky, black mud clinging to his once shiny boots. He tried to shake it off, but it doggedly hung fast. “Well, I’ll have to scrape that off when I get to the blind. I’m half way across already.”
Forcing himself forward, his foot suddenly pulled right out of his boot, causing him to fly headlong into the water filled furrows of the plowed field. Instinctively, he reached out to brace himself from falling. Only thing was he forgot he had his gun in that hand and he poked the barrel in the mud. And that didn’t break his fall enough! He went headlong into the sticky mass. “Oh, darn!” said John. With his gun holding itself upright by the barrel in the mud, he attempted to get back on his feet, but the sticky ooze held him fast! Thrashing back and forth to try to break the hold that Mother Earth had on him, he finally broke free and sat upright. “Now, if I can only find my other boot!” thought John. All that black mud looked the same, boot and all, under the ever darkening skies. Groping all around him and wishing that Sandie was there to help him in his hour of need, he finally felt something firm in the mud. Oops, only a corncob!
Contemplating walking back to the cabin without the boot, he finally found it but could not free it from the earths grip. After much tussling and a little swearing, he got his boot out of the mud and on his foot and then he wrestled his gun out of the mud. Realizing his hunt was over, he sadly made his way towards the cabin. After a lot of mud scraping, crawling and a few more expletives, he was finally at the field’s edge.
Sitting there, he remembered the phone and called Sandie... she would surely understand. He knew talking to her would ease his wounded pride and make him feel better. Well, Sandie must have been in an unusual mood (perhaps too much of that "Hunters Widow" red wine), seems all she could do was laugh and snicker as John unfolded his tale of woe to her. Sadly, he headed to the cabin, he had a lot of cleaning up to do and it wasn't Turkey cleaning!
At least when he gets home, his carving buddies would understand... YEAH!
Finally! Here they come... sneaking down along the edge of the woods. A Grandfather Tom and his hen girlfriend! Wow! That beard must be 20” long! He raised his gun, took careful aim and had him dead in my sights.
Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Ding-a-ling-a-ling! He jumped at the noise, dropped his gun and the Turkeys were gone before the second ring echoed through the quiet of the forest. “Oh Darn”, said John. “The biggest Tom I ever saw and the #@#$%^ phone has to ring.” Taking off his gloves and digging to get the phone out of his camouflage clothing, John was trying to think what he was going to say to the idiot who screwed up his turkey hunt. When he put the phone to his ear, the voice of his son boomed out “Get ready Pa, there’s a couple of nice one’s heading right toward you!”
“They were, till the #@#$%^ phone rang and scared them off! Biggest Tom I ever seen and the little hen for desert! But NOOOOO, the phone rings and off they go!” says John in his calmest voice, which wasn’t too calm.
John couldn’t sit still after that. His adrenaline was flowing a mile a minute and he had to do something. “I guess it’s time to call it a morning. Go get something to eat and rest up for the afternoon hunt. It’s a long walk back to the cabin... gotta find a shorter way.” thought John.
The rain started as he was walking alongside the plowed field, heading to the cabin. A couple of cups of coffee and a little nappy-poo and he would be in good shape. This was the last day of the fall hunt and he hadn’t bagged his bird yet. “I feel like tonight is going to be different.” he thought. Little did he know how different!
Later that day, after regaining his composure which was totally lost due the #@#$%^ phone, he was getting set for the afternoon hunt. Thinking abut that huge Tom, he could almost taste him! “I’m sure that bugger will bring his bride back to my blind this afternoon.” John thought. The rain had not lasted too long, just long enough to make things wet and messy. John dressed up in his best camouflage, pulled on his boots and got ready to hit the trail. “Should I bring that #@#$%^ phone with? Might ring again and scare off old Tom and his girl... yeah, never know when something will happen and I may want to hear the sweet voice of my lovely bride Sandie. But I have to figure out how to turn the thing off until I need it.” Dropping it in his pocket, he grabbed his gun and headed for the woods.
Walking along the edge of the plowed field, he glanced across the the expanse of rich black earth and saw the area where his blind was. He also saw that it was still along way around the field.
“Maybe I’ll just cut straight across and save my poor tired knees the misery of that long walk. Yeah, that will give me plenty of time to settle in and get ready for Grandpa Tom and company.” His mind made up, and once his mind was made up there was no changing it, he headed merrily across the furrows of mud towards his blind.
“Damn! I should have taken a longer nappy-poo. My legs are already getting tired!” Moving ahead, he noticed the sticky, black mud clinging to his once shiny boots. He tried to shake it off, but it doggedly hung fast. “Well, I’ll have to scrape that off when I get to the blind. I’m half way across already.”
Forcing himself forward, his foot suddenly pulled right out of his boot, causing him to fly headlong into the water filled furrows of the plowed field. Instinctively, he reached out to brace himself from falling. Only thing was he forgot he had his gun in that hand and he poked the barrel in the mud. And that didn’t break his fall enough! He went headlong into the sticky mass. “Oh, darn!” said John. With his gun holding itself upright by the barrel in the mud, he attempted to get back on his feet, but the sticky ooze held him fast! Thrashing back and forth to try to break the hold that Mother Earth had on him, he finally broke free and sat upright. “Now, if I can only find my other boot!” thought John. All that black mud looked the same, boot and all, under the ever darkening skies. Groping all around him and wishing that Sandie was there to help him in his hour of need, he finally felt something firm in the mud. Oops, only a corncob!
Contemplating walking back to the cabin without the boot, he finally found it but could not free it from the earths grip. After much tussling and a little swearing, he got his boot out of the mud and on his foot and then he wrestled his gun out of the mud. Realizing his hunt was over, he sadly made his way towards the cabin. After a lot of mud scraping, crawling and a few more expletives, he was finally at the field’s edge.
Sitting there, he remembered the phone and called Sandie... she would surely understand. He knew talking to her would ease his wounded pride and make him feel better. Well, Sandie must have been in an unusual mood (perhaps too much of that "Hunters Widow" red wine), seems all she could do was laugh and snicker as John unfolded his tale of woe to her. Sadly, he headed to the cabin, he had a lot of cleaning up to do and it wasn't Turkey cleaning!
At least when he gets home, his carving buddies would understand... YEAH!
