Texas Duck Hunt 2004
Marshall Texas, a "Shitmaster Classic"

Having had the opportunity to really soak in my new (and first) taxedermal effort for a few weeks at its new location in the Man Room, I can't help but take a little journey down memory lane.

Like it was yesterday, I remember that crisp winter morning in east Texas when Granger and I stumbled out in a drunken stupor, eyes bleary from sleep deprevation and stomachs aching from laughing at the Dagger shoot countless shots of Carmelo's.

As we made out way through the swampy muck, one of our all-knowing guides gave us our instructions: "You idiots sit here." As Granger slipped in and out of alcohol-induced slumber, I killed time by wondering how long, in minutes, it would take to reach an emergency medical center. This of course because the likelihood of Granger discharging his weapon into my lower back and point-blank range seemed like a relative certainty.

But still, I knew something special was about to happen. As the cannon-fire commenced from our nearby friends, I subtly cursed the whole bunch, fearing my assumption was true. That they left us on a fire-ant infested log as they themselves eased off into a virtual Duck Soup.

But in a matter of moments my highly-trained partner bellowed: "Burger, woodius duckius - 11 o'clock!"

As if from deep within my bowel I let loose a flurry of steel, joy and defiance - the outcome of which is neatly decorating my wall.
I leave with you the insightful words of our guide. Boldly emblazoned in puffy silk-screen across a faded black T-shirt: "Take 'Em!"
- Steve Hahn (Yellowbelly Member)