My father went hunting with someone once, a newbie. The newbie, my father, and Papa's friend were all sitting in the stand, trying to get the newbie to shut up, when a buzzard perched on a limb outside the stand.
The newbie just wouldn't have it. He reached out, grabbed the vulture by its legs, and jerked it into the stand! The bird puked on everyone, and this guy was blacklisted for all eternity as a hunting buddy.
But this one's better...
My father and I went dove hunting one year, and this pack of noisy yuppies was across the field from us with unplugged shotuns, practicing spray and pray on every bird they saw, and not just the ones which were safe to shoot. Every time a bird came into their vicinity it sounded like the Civil War. I was mopping up their missed doves with a 20 ga. Remington 1100, not doing a bad job of it, either, and they started shooting at me! They were 150-200 yards away peppering my father and I.
I was glad when the game warden hauled the lot of 'em off.
