Fella goes duck hunting out in the country, and spends the whole day without seeing a single duck. Finally, as the sun is setting, he spies a single duck flying away from him, and he shoots it down just before it passes out of sight. Excitedly, he runs off into the brush, hops a fence, finds the duck and scoops it up triumphantly. "Hey there!" calls a voice, "that's my duck!" The hunter turns to see a very large farmer looming up behind him. "No it's not, I just shot it!" exclaims the hunter. "Well, it's on my land, so it's my duck. I reckon we'll have to settle this country-style," the farmer said gravely. "Country style?" "Yep. First I kick you in the nuts, and then you kick me in the nuts. And we keep taking turns until someone gives." The hunter reluctantly agrees, and the farmer takes a dozen steps back, runs up to the hunter and kicks him square in the balls as hard as he can. The hunter crumples to the ground, reeling. Minutes pass, and finally the hunter can muster the strength to stand. "Okay," croaks the hunter, "my turn." "Nah, you can have the duck."