THE DUCK AND THE LAWYER 🦆⚖️
A high-powered city lawyer went duck hunting in the backwoods of northern Minnesota. He fired a shot, and the duck tumbled… right into a farmer’s field across a fence.
The lawyer climbed over to retrieve it, but an old farmer rolled up on his tractor and asked,
“What do you think you’re doing on my land?”
The lawyer puffed out his chest.
“I shot a duck, it landed here, and now I’m taking it. Step aside.”
The farmer shook his head.
“This is my property. That bird stays.”
The lawyer sneered.
“Listen, old man, I’m one of the top trial attorneys in the country. If you don’t let me take my duck, I’ll sue you for everything you own.”
The farmer just chuckled.
“Clearly, you don’t know how we settle disputes around here. We use the Three Kick Rule.”
The lawyer frowned. “The what?”
The farmer explained, “It’s simple. Since the fight’s on my land, I kick you three times. Then you kick me three times. We go back and forth until somebody gives up.”
The lawyer smirked, thinking this frail old-timer would be no match. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
The farmer climbed down slowly from his tractor, walked right up, and—
WHAM! A steel-toed boot nailed the lawyer in the groin. He collapsed in agony.
WHACK! The second kick buried itself in his stomach, and his lunch came right back up.
SPLAT! The third kick sent him face-first into a steaming fresh cow pie.
The lawyer groaned, shaking, but somehow staggered to his feet, covered in mud and manure. Wiping his face, he growled, “All right, old man… now it’s MY turn.”
The farmer tipped his hat, grinned, and said:
“Nah, I give up. You can have the duck.”
