Bud and Waylin went off hunting one day.
They each got a gun and they went on their way.
They found a spot they thought would be perfect,
And before very long they saw two big turkeys.
Each held his gun ready as the turkeys drew near,
But just then into sight came a big buck deer.
Now each thought the other had sights on the birds,
Both of them shot, and as one it was heard.
Both found their mark and brought that deer down.
The bullets went through and hit a rock on the ground.
They ricocheted off and went who knows where.
They were traveling so close, they fused in mid-air.
Now the two big turkeys had took in all the sight,
And right then and there they just died of fright.
That bullet went through the trees and cut a limb down,
And it killed three squirrels on its way to the ground.
The hunters went over to pick up their squirrels,
Something came over with a whiz and a whirl.
It was that same bullet, and in its wild wrath,
It took out six ducks that were flying in its path.
The last duck turned and the bullet struck its beak,
And ricocheted down almost at their feet.
It was still moving fast like a dog on a trail,
And snuffed out four rabbits and a covey of quail.
Thirty-nine head of birds lay at their feet,
So they figured their day was now made complete.
Just then a commotion in the trees over there,
Made them enter with caution to find a big trophy bear.
Now that bear was choking but he couldn’t cough,
They watched, stunned, as something finished him off.
Since there was no reason, they couldn’t figure it out,
They cut the bear’s throat to see what brought this about.
There in the windpipe, stuck as tight as a wedge,
A chip off that duck’s beak that’d flew through the hedge.
They got the bear and started back to the truck,
To load him up and go back for the buck.
But there in the branch, what does it look like?
Yep, a big yearling deer with about six inch spikes.
He was knocked off balance by the limb that fell,
And fell in and drowned, far’s they could tell.
They had to retrieve it so they jumped in the branch,
And when they came out, the pockets of their pants
Were full of red bellies, goggle-eye, and several blue gill,
Two eight-pound bass, some bream and an eel.
They counted them all, sixty-four As they figure.
All as big as your hand, and some a lot bigger.
Then they emptied their boots right there on the spot,
And had enough crawfish to fill a large pot.
Now they gathered up all the game of the day,
And loaded the truck so they could be on their way.
Then they heard something, a dull sounding thud,
And there in their front tire was that gosh-awful slug.
They dug out the slug, it didn’t go deep.
This surely would be one souvenir they’d keep.
And as absurd as it sounds, it really is true,
Their initials were scratched on it by the limbs it went through.
They got the tire changed, and headed for home,
To proudly show mamma how their day had gone.
As they rode, they tallied to see what they had.
Sixty-four fish and two deer wasn’t bad.
Three squirrels, two turkeys, four rabbits, one bear,
Thirty-nine birds, and an eel are back there.
Six ducks, one of which would make a fine dish.
There’s also twenty-nine pounds of crawfish.
They looked at each other as they drove on their way.
You know this ain’t half bad for a “two-bullet” day.
They were glad to get home, they were freezing and wet,
And they hadn’t been gone even two hours yet!
They showed everything, and told how time had been spent,
Tho’ they didn’t tell it exactly like it went.
They laid out game proudly, till their arms went limp,
Then Mamma said sweetly, “I’d rather have shrimp”.