This was the last weekend of deer season at the famous Christmas Place and my brother Satan, no the other brother (Paul) was in a frenzy to get a big buck. Lot's of people believe it was a case of Droptine Envy. Paul ran white-eyed through every food plot, looked behind the barn, kicked every brush top, checked the bunk room, went all around the lake and still no big deer could be found for him to blast. Saturday night I heard him scream "Eureka! I know where he is!
The next morning when the big truck pulled in the yard, Paul went out to meet the driver wearing his insulated underwear, wool socks a red bandana and carrying his 7 MAG.
The terrified driver went to work and started emptying the septic tank while Paul kept his rifle aimed at it. When he was through and burned rubber out of the driveway, Paul stuck his head and a flashlight down in the hole. "Hellooo-lo-lo-o?"
No big buck was hiding in the septic tank and our dejected hunter went back into the Droptine Lodge to chew old bones.
No deer and a smelly conclusion to our Deer Season.