An attorney was playing golf, saw a duck fly overhead, pulled his pistol out his golf bag, and shot the duck. The dead bird landed in a farmer’s field on the other side of a fence that had a No Trespassing sign on it. He was confident that he could retrieve his duck without a problem, so he climbed the fence.
Just then the farmer stepped up and said, “Sonny, just what do you think you’re doing.”
“I’m getting my duck,” responded the attorney.
The farmer said, “That ain’t your duck, sonny. He’s on my land.”
“Well,” the attorney blurted out, “If you don’t let me have him, I will sue you.”
The farmer scratched his chin and said, “Around here we don’t sue. We settle things with three-kickers. We take turns kicking each other three times. The first one to quit loses the deal.”
“Ok,” said the attorney. “I think I can go along with that.”
Then the farmer said, “Fine, sonny. Now, it’s my land, so I go first.” He drew back a leg and kicked the attorney as hard as he could in the groin. The attorney went down, writhing in pain. The farmer kicked him in the chest, breaking several ribs, and then gave a swift glancing kick to the head and drew blood. The attorney was barely conscious, but he started to rise, saying, “Ok, it’s my turn.”
At that the farmer bent over, picked up the duck, handed the duck to the attorney, and said, “Sonny, the duck is yours. I quit!”