Deer season has come to an end here in East Texas. I am not a deer hunter so I am not sure when the exact date is that deer season ends. I only know that it officially ended a couple of weekends ago when the Kingtown Hunting Club held their "End of the Season" cook out. On the last weekend, they all get together and have an overnight wild game cook out. Mostly it is just another reason to go out in the woods and drink. "End of the Season Cook Out" sounds so much better than "A weekend of Booze, BS and camouflaged jumpsuits", but that is actually what it is.
At the end of the 2012 Deer season, the Texas Parks and Wildlife Biologists will publish the stats on deer populations, deer health, and landowner management. They will also publish the dark stats of hunting accidents, the numbers of hunters accidentally killed, or wounded, the number of livestock that were mistaken for deer and the count of vehicles that got shot up from accidental firearm discharges. One category of statistic that will be missing is the "End of Season Cookout Mishap".
At the cookout, there was supposed to be some official Kingtown Hunting Club business matters but those were short lived. Elections for the 2013 officers was supposed to take place but things went down hill after a drunken Jay Weems tried to "Rap" his campaign speech along with a background posse made up of his brother-in-law, Calvin Bruckman and Ronnie Till. The three of them had planned on having a rehearsal beforehand but they ended up drinking instead. Jay put a CD into the player and started prancing around the campfire with an antler as a make-believe microphone, while Calvin tried to do some heel to toe popping as he motioned the slim shady chop. Ronnie swayed in the background using a beer can as his imaginary scratching turntable. With the total lack of rehearsing and an ill-conceived idea, it wound up with the three of them staring at each other, while they each tried to goad the other into doing something beyond what they were doing. Then they started calling each other names and it almost devolved into a fist fight between the three of them when all of a sudden, they were pelted with empty beer cans and yelled at to "sit the hell down". Calvin started arguing with everyone but he got drowned out at the point where he accused the Kingtown Hunting Club of being a bunch of something or another neanderthals. That meant a lot coming from a guy wearing camouflage and holding a deer antler.
The part of the cookout that will evade the TPWD statistics is what happened later in the early morning hours. Most of the guys had made their way back to their campers and tents. There were a few still hanging in but were winding down. Calvin was pouring the remains of his beer onto the campfire to extinguish it. As soon as he did that, David Murphy scream out loud and started lecturing the group about the sins of wasting beer like that. He loudly proclaimed, "Here, Ah'll show you how to put out a fire!" With that he, he took his beer can and tucked it between his chin and chest. Now, with his hands free, he unzipped his pants and assumed the position for urinating on a fire. He held his hands out to side like he was getting ready to do a swan dive. With his neck muscles clenched tight against the beer can, he yelled "Look Ma, no hands,,This is the way you put out a fire!!" He giggled at himself as he stood next to the campfire, eyes closed, with arms outstretched, all the while peeing on the fire.
Here is where the cow gets killed, or a car window gets shot out.
In his less than sober state, Dave started swaying like a pendulum, first left and right, then forward and backward. The swaying got worse and worse until it reached the point of no return. Dave fell forward into the fire. Luckily, he caught himself with his hands and ended up in a downward dog pose,, over the fire,, with his pants unzipped and a full beer emptying into his face. He gurgled something along the lines of "abba dabba 911, abba dabba 911,,,Ahma God". There are two EMTs, a Doctor and a couple of Lawyers in the hunting club and the best they could do was yell, "Don't waste yer beer, Dave!!". Dave's face was a bright cherry red, possibly exaggerated by the close proximity of the fire. He was trying to avoid the fire by wiggling his butt in the air. Gradually he got his feet close enough together to donkey kick himself off the fire but not soon enough to avoid taking some heat in the hinter regions, if you know what I mean. As Dave laid on the ground writhing in pain, the group slowly came to the realization that Dave had truly gotten hurt. They did not Abba Dabba 911, but they did get him into a car, load his crotch up with ice and drive him to the hospital.
From what I hear, Dave is doing okay. He is out of the hospital but He won't go into details about his injury. The only thing I have heard for sure is that he and his fiance Trisha, have postponed their wedding date until May.
No comments:
Post a Comment