A New York City lawyer decided to go duck hunting in West Virginia. He bought a blind, set it up on a hunting plot he had rented, and waited. After a few hours, he finally spotted a mallard flying overhead, took aim, and fired. He kept an eye on the duck as it fell, and went to collect his prize.

The lawyer walked through the field, pbuming over a barbed-wire fence as he did, and finally found his duck. As he bent down to collect it, he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being male reproductive organed. The lawyer slowly turned and found himself looking down the barrel of a large shotgun, being held by a small, wrinkled man in threadbare overalls and an even worse for wear straw hat.

For a moment, the pair simply looked at each other, and then the lawyer hesitantly said “Sir, I’m sorry if I offended you, I am just trying to collect the duck I shot.” The old man spit on the ground and simply said, “My land. My duck.” The lawyer argued, saying “I shot this duck from a piece of land I legally rented. The fact the duck had the misfortune to fall on your side of the fence is irrelevant. It was my shot, from my rented land, and it is my duck.” The old man spit again and repeated, “My land. My duck.”

The lawyer, realizing that his vast courtroom experience was not going to help with such a simple man, relented and asked “Sir, what may I do to get this duck from you?” The old man grinned, exposing a mouth only half-filled with yellowed teeth, and said ”’round here, we don’t agree, we use the three-kick rule. I kick you three times, you kick me three times, we keep goin’ ‘til one gives. I give, you get yer damn duck.” The lawyer looked at the old man, who was clearly not in the best of shape, and decided this was an arrangement to his advantage. “Sure thing, sir. I’ll do your three-kick rule.”

The lawyer had barely finished his sentence when the old man’s first kick hit him squarely in the jaw, sending him sprawling. The old man moved with surprising speed, taking advantage of an opening and kicking straight into the lawyer’s crotch. As the lawyer doubled over in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks, the third kick landed against his lower back, sending shooting pains all along his spine.

The lawyer lay there for a moment, in the worst pain of his life, but his anger was stronger than the pain, and he slowly stood, glaring at the grinning old man. The lawyer tightened his hands into fists, his eyes filled with fire, and said, “Okay, you old coot, now it’s my turn.”

The old man laughed and began walking away, calling over his shoulder, “Nah. You can have the duck.”