Specifically, it's hunting that has him fascinated and after a couple years of watching every sort of hunting show he can find, every chance he gets, he decides that no matter what, he's just gotta get out and try it for himself.
So, being the serious sort, he begins to really do his homework, preparing for his first hunting trip. He figures that it's probably best to start out kinda small and not get too exotic right away, and after lots of reading and deliberation, he settles on duck-hunting as his best bet. He'll have to travel a ways, but just by car. Not like going all the way to Africa for big game or something. He can hunt ducks within a few hours drive from the city, and he won't even have to take extra time off work.
So, first, he goes out to tool-up and buys himself a beauty of a shotgun. Just like he's seen on the CMT hunting shows. And he gets himself a brightly colored vest and some nice warm, water-resistant boots. He also invests in a portable duck blind and a couple different types of duck calls. He even gets himself one of those funny hats with the floppy ears and orange neon markings for safety. He begins spending most all of his spare time at the gun range downtown and even finds a skeet place to practice shooting at clay pigeons.
Eventually, the day finally arrives that he's been looking forward to for so long. He packs up the Off Road SUV that he's just rented, dresses in his camouflage gear with orange neon accented vest and floppy-eared hat and then, heads out into the countryside. He keeps driving 'til he figures he's gotten into sufficiently rural surroundings, and then begins scanning both sides of the little country highway for an apt location like he's seen in so many duckhunts on OLN.
At last, he sees his spot. A little slough just a few yards from the road he's on. It's got cat tails and other vegetation to give him cover, enough open water to entice weary migrating ducks to stop for a spell, and best of all, there doesn't seem to be anyone around. In fact, there's only one farmhouse that he can see in any direction and it's at least half a mile away. He knows his shotgun won't send pellets even half that far he figures this must be the most perfect spot to hunt for many miles in any direction. So, he pulls over onto the shoulder, grabs up all his gear and spends the next couple hours setting up his blind, loading his gun, watching the sky through his binoculars, and tooting on his duck calls every now and then. Basically, having the time of his life, exactly like he'd been dreaming about for years by this point.
Suddenly, he sees several beautiful, majestic ducks flying in his direction. He gets very still. Not even allowing himself to breathe. He can hear his own pulse thundering in his ears as he forces himself to stay calm and wait for his best shot. Finally, it 's here! He squeezes the trigger and the boom of the shotgun is so loud it frightens him almost as much as it frightens the ducks who immediately change course and rapidly retreat in the opposite direction.
Well that is, except for the one big beautiful bird he's hit dead-centered, exactly as he'd fantasized so many times. He sees it plunge towards the ground about 20 yards away! He lets out a celebratory whoop and leaps from his blind. The bird has come to rest at the edge of a plowed field. He sees that he won't even have to get his boots wet in the slough as there's a clear path of dry ground the whole way between himself and his prize!
Gleefully, he sets down his gun and fast-walks over towards the dead bird. Just before reaching it, however, he suddenly notices the rather large and scary looking man stepping into his path. This guy's got long stringy hair poking out from beneath the rim of his cap. Tobacco stains cover his lips, his beard, and the few half-rotted teeth remaining in his gums, evidence of a lifetime of chewing tobacco. Yellow stains in the long scraggly beard that covers him from nostrils to nipples make him look like an extra from the filming of 'Deliverance'. And our intrepid hunter is especially taken aback by the very serious and displeased look on the farmers very stern face.
"Oh!" the suddenly wary hunter exclaims, "I'm sorry. I didn't see you there!" Receiving no response, he tries, "Well now, is this YOUR land we're standing on?"
After a long moment, the farmers spits some tobacco juice that almost hits our city dude's boot. "Yep, that's right. This is my land that I inherited from my father and that he inherited from his." He snarls. "Why, what's your business here…dude?"
Hearing the derision and obvious suspicion in the farmer's gravelly voice, he pauses to collect himself before replying, humbly, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't know this was private property. I guess I kinda assumed that because of the open water in this slough right there that it must be public land."
The farmer laughed harshly before spitting an even bigger spume of tobacco juice, this time, directly on the man's nice new boots. "Well, you'd be right if we was standing about 15 feet back that way towards the road. Right here, though, you're trespassing on my granddaddy's property."
The hunter looks down and sees the no trespassing sign that is half covered by the cattails just behind where he's standing. He had been so excited, he hadn't even noticed it as he passed.
"Well, sir, I am very, very sorry. I did not see that sign and had no idea. I certainly meant no disrespect and if you'll just let me grab that duck right there, I'll get outta here immediately."
"Duck? What… you mean that duck right over there behind me about twenty paces?"
"Um, well yes sir, that's the duck I just shot."
"Well I don't give a good goddamn who shot it or how it got there even, because that don't matter no how." And giving our dear eager hunter the darkest and most scathing look yet, he said, "That duck, ya see, is layin' there on my land, well then, that's my duck!"
Frightened as he was by the farmer's menacing tone and evil looks, he wasn't going to be deterred that easily. He had spent so much time, and effort and money on shooting that duck, he decided no way was he gonna just let it go. So, standing up tall and letting some bass come into his voice for the first time in the conversation, he said, "Well, I've worked too hard, came too far and waited too long to just let you keep my duck. So we're gonna have to figure something out here, cuz I ain't leaving without it."
The farmer begins to cackle, and says, "Ooooh, the big city boy thinks he gonna intimidate me, right here on my Granddaddy's land too!". Then, suddenly losing any hint of the humor in his voice. He snarls, "Boy, the only way you're leaving here with that duck…."
"What?" said the man, starting to get angry now. "What's it gonna take you old cuss?"
Grinning suddenly from ear to ear, the farmer says, "Well now son, I reckon it's gonna take you winning me in a little old competition, right here, right now. We gon' solve this the good old country way!"
Feeling pretty intimidated now, the hunter says, "Fine, whatever. What do we gotta do for this hick bullshit competition?"
With another cackle, the farmer says, "Close! Not HICK son, KICK. We're gonna stand right here and take turns kicking each other in the balls until one of us yields!"
The hunter, though a bit taken aback at first, thinks, "I might actually enjoy kicking this ornery old fuck in the balls", so he nods, "Okay, motherfucker, let's do this then!"
Again with a cackle, the farmer adds, "Well since this IS my land, and you're the city-slicker that's got hisself caught trespassing, I get to go first!"
The hunter considers this. But fails to come up with a logical argument against the idea, says, "Ok, fair enough." and braces himself for the first of his opponent's assaults.
Well, suffice to say, no amount of bracing could have prepared him for the vicious blow he received right in the center of his crotch. The old farmer had somehow managed to equally impact his penis, both testicles, his tain't, and his anus in an explosion of electric pain that ripped through him like a bolt of lightning.
Our intrepid city-dweller was doubled over and vomiting before the loud "Ooofff!" he emitted had passed his lips. As he crumpled to the dirt, he wondered to himself "How the FUCK did a kick in the nuts just make me see stars?"
After vomiting a few more times and then curling up in the fetal position, clutching his knees to his chest with both arms, he didn't move or breathe or make a single sound for a full ten minutes.
When finally, the pain had subsided enough for him to let go of the death grip he had been holding on the backs of his knees, he looked up to see the old farmer just grinning from ear to ear. Clearly proud of himself.
Steeling himself for the effort, the hunter carefully stood, both of his knees quaking unsteadily. Finally fully extended, he pulled his shoulders back and said, "Alright motherfucker, it's MY turn now."
The farmer shrugged and said, "Naa. Keep the fucking duck."
Joke Poo: The Algorithm’s Assurance
This coder, who’d spent his entire life glued to screens, started obsessing over efficiency and optimization, thanks to all the tech conferences and self-help blog posts he’d been devouring.
He decided he needed to apply these principles to his dating life. No more random encounters, no more relying on the whims of fate. He was going to algorithmically optimize his way to a soulmate.
First, he created a detailed profile, listing all his interests, preferences, and dealbreakers. Then, he subscribed to every dating app imaginable, writing a script to scrape data from all of them. He spent weeks building a complex algorithm to filter out incompatible matches, identify promising candidates, and even predict their likelihood of responding to his messages.
He meticulously planned every date, researching the best restaurants, crafting engaging conversation starters, and even practicing his smile in the mirror. He logged every interaction, analyzed the data, and constantly tweaked his approach.
Finally, after months of relentless optimization, he found her. The perfect match. According to his algorithm, she was 99.999% compatible with him. She ticked all the boxes, shared his values, and even laughed at his terrible jokes (a statistically improbable event!).
He arranged a date at a trendy new AI-themed bar. He arrived precisely on time, wearing his best “smart casual” outfit (algorithmically determined, of course). He launched into his pre-rehearsed opening line, a witty observation about the inefficiencies of human connection.
Suddenly, he saw several attractive women entering the bar. He gets very still. Not even allowing himself to breathe. He can hear his own processor working overtime as he forces himself to stay calm and wait for his best shot. Finally, it ‘s here! He says: “Wow, nice chicks!”
Well that is, except for his date. He sees that she is now walking towards the exit.
He lets out a celebratory whoop and gets up from his seat. The server says: “Sir, is there a problem?”
He gleefully sets down his glass and runs over towards his date. Just before reaching her, however, he suddenly notices a very serious and displeased look on her face.
“Oh!” the suddenly wary coder exclaims, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there!” Receiving no response, he tries, “Well now, is this where you wanted to eat?”
After a long moment, she says, “Yep, that’s right. This is the first time in years that I used a dating app.” She snarls. “Why, what’s your business here…dude?”
Hearing the derision and obvious suspicion in her voice, he pauses to collect himself before replying, humbly, “I’m sorry ma’am, I thought we were getting a drink.”
She laughed harshly before storming away, this time, directly on the sidewalk. “Well, you’d be right if we were on a work call. Right here, though, you’re trespassing on my evening.”
The coder looks down and sees the error message that has just popped up on his phone. He had been so excited, he hadn’t even seen it.
“Well, ma’am, I am very, very sorry. I did not see that message. I certainly meant no disrespect and if you’ll just let me grab that phone right there, I’ll get outta here immediately.”
“Phone? What… you mean that phone right over there behind me about twenty paces?”
“Um, well yes, ma’am, that’s the phone that sent you the dating request.”
“Well I don’t give a good goddamn who sent it or how it got there even, because that don’t matter no how.” And giving our dear eager coder the darkest and most scathing look yet, she said, “That phone, ya see, is going on silent mode!”
Frightened as he was by her menacing tone and evil looks, he wasn’t going to be deterred that easily. He had spent so much time, and effort and money on this date, he decided no way was he gonna just let it go. So, standing up tall and letting some bass come into his voice for the first time in the conversation, he said, “Well, I’ve worked too hard, came too far and waited too long to just let you turn off this phone. So, we’re gonna have to figure something out here, cuz I ain’t leaving without you turning the ringer back on.”
The woman begins to cackle and says, “Ooooh, the big coder boy thinks he’s gonna intimidate me, right here in front of the AI bar too!”. Then, suddenly losing any hint of the humor in her voice. She snarls, “Boy, the only way you’re leaving here with that phone turned on…”
“What?” said the coder, starting to get angry now. “What’s it gonna take you old cuss?”
Grinning suddenly from ear to ear, the woman says, “Well now son, I reckon it’s gonna take you winning me in a little old competition, right here, right now. We gon’ solve this the good old way!”
Feeling pretty intimidated now, the coder says, “Fine, whatever. What do we gotta do for this hick bullshit competition?”
With another cackle, the woman says, “Close! Not HICK son, CLIQUES. We’re gonna stand right here and take turns answering each other’s questions! Whoever gets the most right answers wins!”
The coder, though a bit taken aback at first, thinks, “I might actually enjoy this competition”, so he nods, “Okay, alright. I can do this.”
Again with a cackle, the woman adds, “Well since this IS my night out, and you’re the city-slicker that’s got himself caught creeping, I get to go first!”
The coder considers this. But fails to come up with a logical argument against the idea, says, “Ok, fair enough.” and braces himself for the first of his opponent’s assaults.
Well, suffice to say, no amount of coding could have prepared him for the vicious question he received right in the center of his knowledge. The woman had somehow managed to equally impact his memory, his logic, his syntax, and his algorithm in an explosion of mental pain that ripped through him like a bolt of lightning.
Our intrepid coder was doubled over and trying to remember his password before the loud “Ooofff!” he emitted had passed his lips. As he crumpled to the sidewalk, he wondered to himself “How the FUCK did a question just make me see stars?”
After trying to remember what the woman had asked a few more times and then curling up in the fetal position, clutching his phone to his chest with both arms, he didn’t move or breathe or make a single sound for a full ten minutes.
When finally, the pain had subsided enough for him to let go of the death grip he had been holding on his phone, he looked up to see the woman just grinning from ear to ear. Clearly proud of herself.
Steeling himself for the effort, the coder carefully stood, both of his knees quaking unsteadily. Finally fully extended, he pulled his shoulders back and said, “Alright motherfucker, it’s MY turn now.”
The woman shrugged and said, “Naa. Keep the fucking data.”
Alright, let’s dissect this joke and then duck dive into some humor enrichment!
Joke Dissection:
- Premise: City slicker, armed with knowledge gleaned from television, attempts to hunt ducks on what he believes is public land but is actually private property.
- Setup: The elaborate preparations, the “serious” homework, the rented SUV, the camo gear, the misinterpretation of rural signs, and the hunter’s obliviousness to his surroundings. This creates anticipation.
- Conflict: The confrontation with the stereotypical, menacing farmer. The farmer’s possessiveness over a duck shot on his land.
- Twist: The farmer proposes a “good old country way” to settle the dispute – a ball-kicking contest.
- Punchline: The farmer delivers a devastating first kick, leaving the hunter incapacitated. The final reversal: The farmer, having proven his point (and inflicted maximum pain), simply lets the hunter have the duck. The punchline derives from the utterly disproportionate response, the subversion of expectations (the city dweller anticipated enjoying kicking the farmer, and the sudden anticlimactic ‘keep the duck’ ending.
Key Elements:
- City vs. Country: The clash of cultures, the urbanite’s naive romanticization of rural life, and the perceived wisdom of the “country way.”
- Stereotypes: The tech-savvy hunter relying on TV, the gruff, tobacco-chewing farmer.
- Violence: The implied brutality of the ball-kicking contest, contrasting with the initial goal of a peaceful hunting trip.
- Irony: The hunter’s detailed preparation being utterly useless in the face of the farmer’s “country wisdom” (read: ability to inflict maximum groin trauma).
Humor Enrichment & New Joke:
Let’s play on the stereotypes and the contrast between perceived expertise and actual experience, weaving in a “Did You Know?” factoid:
Did you know: Mallard ducks (often hunted) have been observed engaging in surprisingly aggressive mating behaviors, including forced copulation. Scientists believe this is partly due to the high ratio of males to females in some duck populations.
New Joke (Playing on the Mallard mating behavior):
A venture capitalist from Manhattan decides to try duck hunting for team-building. He’s got all the high-end gear – a drone that scouts for the best spots, a sonic call that perfectly imitates a receptive hen, even a custom-built waders with temperature-controlled socks.
He sets up his fancy blind and starts calling. Suddenly, a flock of Mallards appears, and they’re not interested in his decoy. Instead, they swarm his drone, trying to mate with it.
Frustrated, he calls his venture capital buddy and complains, “I’ve got the best tech, the best gear… what am I doing wrong?”
The VC friend replies, “Son, welcome to duck hunting. Turns out, the real challenge isn’t attracting the ducks, it’s keeping them from aggressively trying to fund your startup.“
Punchline: He then looked down and saw 10 Mallards all trying to “force copulate” with his boot! That’s when he decided to just go back to investing in real estate.
Explanation of Enrichment:
- Builds on the Original: This joke retains the core city-vs-country theme and the idea of over-the-top preparation.
- Incorporates Reality: The bizarre-but-true fact about aggressive Mallard mating behavior.
- Modern Context: The city slicker is now a tech-savvy VC, adding a contemporary twist.
- Unexpected Twist: The “aggressive mating” is reinterpreted as aggressive investment behavior, creating a humorous parallel.
- Ironic Reversal: The hunter’s “expertise” is not only useless but becomes a liability, attracting unwanted advances.
- Punchline – is the twist in the story. The protagonist isn’t just failing, but is being mocked by nature’s cruel design. He loses twice.
This new joke uses the factual “Did You Know?” element to enhance the punchline. It’s not just that the hunter fails, but the reason for his failure is bizarre, unexpected, and ironically related to the actual biology of the ducks he’s trying to hunt. It also riffs on stereotypes about Silicon Valley and venture capital, adding another layer of humor.