At dawn the telephone rings, "Hello, Senor Jack? This is Ernesto, the caretaker at your country house."
"Ah yes, Ernesto. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?"
"Um, I am just calling to advise you, Senor Jack, that your parrot, he is dead."
"My parrot? Dead? The one that won the International competition?"
"Si, Senor, that's the one."
"Damn! That's a pity! I spent a small fortune on that bird. What did he die from?"
"From eating the rotten meat, Senor Jack."
"Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?"
"Nobody, Senor. He ate the meat of the dead horse."
"Dead horse? What dead horse?"
"The thoroughbred, Senor Jack."
"My prize thoroughbred is dead?"
"Yes, Senor Jack, he died from all that work pulling the water cart."
"Are you insane? What water cart?"
"The one we used to put out the fire, Senor."
"Good Lord! What fire are you talking about, man?"
"The one at your house, Senor! A candle fell and the curtains caught on fire."
"What the hell? Are you saying that my mansion is destroyed because of a candle?!"
"Yes, Senor Jack."
"But there's electricity at the house! What was the candle for?"
"For the funeral, Senor Jack."
"WHAT BLOODY FUNERAL??!!"
"Your wife's, Senor Jack. She showed up very late one night and I thought she was a thief, so I shot her with your new Kreighoff Limited Edition Custom Gold Engraved Trap Special with the custom Wenig Exhibition Grade Stock Shotgun."
Silence...
Long silence...
Very long silence...
"Ernesto, if you scratched that shotgun, you're in deep shit."
h/t McMike
Some of you know how nice that gun happens to be... I happen to have a Wenig stock on my shotgun, not exhibition grade, and it's sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet! DC
3 comments:
Aw, Denny, a Remington Model 32 by any other name would smell just as sweet...
OK, I jest just a bit. Back when Dad shot skeet competitively in the '60s and early '70s, he occasionally shot a Kreighoff, as well as a Superposed/Diana,a Silver Snipe, and some kind of Chas Daly.
In the day, he could go 100 straight, and even now, I wouldn't bet against him going 90.
But I've heard him say more times than I can remember, and it's no faux vox populi, that if it comes to shooting for "money, marbles or chalk", he'll take an 1100 any day. Part of that comes, of course, from the fact that after 100 rounds, a solid breech gun creates the need for copious amounts of Scotch or Bourbon, for medicinal purposes, afterward.
Pheasant hunting, I've seen him carry a Red Label (as I have also done), but his favorite seems to be a Model 58 Sportsman (direct ancestor of the 1100, albeit more complicated and expensive to produce) with a dog dick Poly Choke at the muzzle.
I used to have a kreighoff on my tv. Every time I watched baywatch.
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