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From Leroy in Lubbock;
Three men were on a hunting trip in west Texas. One man was from Montana. The second was from Wyoming, and the third was from Texas.
After finishing their dinner for the evening, they were sitting around the campfire, drinking fine bourbon and telling tall tales.
The man from Montana said, “I once went elk hunting in Big Sky. As this 1,200 pound elk began charging me, I quickly grabbed my rifle. As I aimed and pulled the trigger, the gun misfired and there was no time to reload. I had no choice, so I grabbed the elk by the antlers and began a wrestle to the death. I reached for my knife, and I finished the old boy off. His head is hanging above my fireplace today.”
The three men grunted their approval of the man’s story and all agreed that he was one tough man.
The Wyoming man went next.
“Once on a bear hunt in Jackson Hole, I slipped and fell 100 feet down the side of a steep hill, landing on the back of a grizzly bear. I had no choice but to hold on for dear life. I grabbed that bear’s ears, and I bit him. I had dropped my rifle during the fall. All I had was an ink pen in my pocket. I grabbed that pen and stabbed it repeatedly into the bear’s neck until he fell dead at my feet. I have that bear’s skin on the floor of my den today.”
The three men again grunted their approval of the toughness of their Wyoming friend.
The men from Montana and Wyoming turned to the Texan.
The Texan didn’t say a word. He just stuck his hand into the campfire and stirred the coals.