The goat.
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A buddy of mine hunted with a steady group of guys back home in West-by-God-Virginia every year. They'd get together for gun season and camp out for a week, hunting hard in the daytime and socializing in the evenings. Practical jokes were a staple of the group.
One guy was a hard luck hunter. Oh, he'd kill a deer every other year or three, but he was never the hunter the other guys were. So, being the kind and gentle souls they were, they set him up.
A brown goat was bought and instead of hunting that morning, a couple of the guys went and got it. Bringing it back, they picked a strategic thicket that bordered on the trail this guy would have to take back to camp. They then tied the goat up in the edge of the thicket, where it could be partially seen, but you couldn't get a really good look at it.
Making sure that someone walked back to camp with the intended victim that morning, everybody staged themselves in a safe spot and waited for the fun. Sure enough, here came the two guys down the trail, rifles slung, the victim in the rear. Knowing where the goat would be, the front guy stopped and pointed and whispered,
"Paul, look. It's a buck. Shoot him! Shoot him!"
Paul unslung his rifle, quickly chambered a round and shot the "buck". The goat dropped like a rock, but let out one plaintiff bleat, Bahahahaha... At that point, the whole group of guys lost it. Rolling on the ground, lost it. And mixed with the laughter, was the sound of Paul cursing a blue streak at each and every one of his friends. At least the guys skinned the goat for him and they had it roasted for supper. Everybody agreed it was one of the best camp suppers they ever had.
Lastly, if you are ever walking the streets of Alderson, West-by-God-Virginia, and you see a grey-headed man or two stop and suddenly let out the sorrowful bleat of a dying goat, look for the man they are bleating at.
And don't forget to tell Paul, hello.
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Fun andedote!!
