By Scott Longman
Sam made several million bucks and bought maybe a thousand acres outside a little town in Midwest cornfields, with a sweet little hunting lodge. Every local is part of his posse, and every one of them is cut out of about the same piece of leather. Everybody is armed, and everybody likes a bottle or three of Kentucky’s finest.
Of course, we don’t endorse this type of conduct; but we don’t prohibit it either.
So, a finer discussion of rifle cartridges was well underway, when the unmistakable sounds of coyotes arose in the distance. Would this be of interest to the assembled posse? Well, that’s the sort of question that answers itself.
By serendipity, Sam had a horse that had become unalived the day before. The immediate agreement was that it would be perfect coyote bait.
They saddled up the F-250 and headed off to the south pasture, with the intent of dragging it up to what we might call the Porch Field of Fire. A little work with a logging chain later, and they had the equine in tow.
While no one would later blame Kentucky’s finest for the pending navigational error, there can’t be any debate that there was, indeed, a navigational error. It was as simple as left versus right, which translated into ranch versus town.
The cavalcade ended up driving right through the central business district and even around the town square before anybody in the group noted that they had deviated quite unmistakably from the intended path. That said, one member of the party remarked on the fortuity that they were right then passing a bar, neon lights aglow and portending warmth and welcome. Stopping for a cold one seemed the only reasonable course of action. They didn’t even try to park: they just stopped.
So, these obviously sober pillars of the community stomped into the bar, all carrying high-powered rifles. Apparently, the barkeep wasn’t fazed at all, and they bellied up.
Not everyone was quite as unfazed as the barkeep, to include the local police, who seemed to have an issue with a dead horse chained to the back of a pickup parked in the middle of the street.
The coyotes were, no doubt, delighted.
