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So there was this LA lawyer who went up to Montana to go duck hunting. Well, he shot at a duck and hit it, but it fell onto private property, just across the fence. Just as he was jumping over the fence, an old farmer drove up in his old truck and said, "What are you doing on my property?"

The lawyer replied that he was going to retrieve the duck that he had just shot.

The farmer said,"Oh no you don't, it's my duck now--it's on my property."

The lawyer said,"Look, I'm the most prominant trial attorney in LA, and if we take this to court, you're going to lose your farm."

The farmer replied, "No you don't understand--here in Montana, we don't go to court, we use the "three kick rule" to settle these types of disputes."

The lawyer says, "What is the "three kick rule"?"

The farmer replied, "Well, first I would kick you three times, then you would kick me three times, and so on until one of us gives up and the other guy wins."

The lawyer looked at the old farmer, and figuring he was younger, bigger, and stronger, agreed to settle the dispute under the Montana rule. Before he finished agreeing, the farmer gave him a crushing kick to the nuts. The lawyer crumpled to the ground only to have his nose nearly wiped off his face with a second kick, and before he could clear his head, the farmer broke several ribs with a final monster blow to the kidneys.

The lawyer, bloodied and battered, slowly managed to get up, driven only by the desire to strike back at the farmer, who he warned by threatening, "Now it's my turn, you old coot, prepare to meet your maker", to which the farmer replied, "Naw, I give up--you can have the duck."