Clem and Zeke plan a bit of huntin’

“Hey Clem, ya wanna go huntin’ this weekend?”

“Can’t, Zeke, Momma says I hafta stay home, bein’ Christmas and all.”

“That wife of yourn, she jis’ don’t understand a man’s need to catch some fresh meat out in the wild.  But don’t you worry none ’bout that, I got me a plan.”

“Careful, now, Zeke.  Momma’ll have me in the doghouse fer sure if she catches me sneakin’ out with you to go huntin’.”

“No problem at all, Clem, with my plan, you can go huntin’, and you don’t even have to leave the comforts of yer lil’ ol’ cabin.  We jis’ need to set a few traps and wait for the game to come to us.”

“Yer as crazy as a rabid ‘possum under a full moon.  Where in this town do ya think we can set a trap where the game’ll be, but where lil’ Cletus or Mary Beth won’t step and get their leg broke?  We’d both have a mob after us if we caused harm to any of those kids.”

“Ah, Zeke, that thar’s the genius part of my plan.  We’ll stick ’em on the roof!  It’s Christmas Eve, and Ol’ Santa’s gonna come by with a whole herd of critters.  But when it comes to mountin’ the trophies…I got dibs on the one with the red nose.”


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