Fair Game

By Al Horn

"Believe me, your Honor, this is all a simple misunderstanding," said John.

"You realize what you've just said has been uttered in this court countless number of times," returned the Honorable Paul C. Klapmen.

"Your Honor, I'm sure you have heard many an explanation. I truly believe that what I am about to say will prompt you to drop the charges brought against us."

"For you and your friend's sake, I hope so."

"It's true, we were on Lake Woebegon the day before duck season opened. It's also true, we had loaded guns in the boat. You see, your Honor, we load our own shells. Each year we buy fresh supplies and spend the weekend before opening day loading our rounds. Each year we experiment with a slightly different type of shot, wadding, and powder. Those subtle differences can produce various shot patterns. It only makes sense to fire a couple of test shots."

"I am not a hunter, but I can follow that reasoning," interjected the judge.

"Thanks, your Honor. We got onto the lake about one hour after sunrise, dropped a couple of shells into our rifles, then picked a large cloud that faced the sun. With that kind of lighting, it's easy to see if the loads we're using push a little left or right. We can also tell if the pattern stays tight or spreads out real quick. This kind of regimen is no different than an athlete getting out the day before a big game and stretching all of his muscles. This was our way of prepping for our sport. We have done this for the last ten years. We have never shot anything but air."

"That or you've never been caught," said the Game Warden. He had been patiently standing to one side.

"Alexander!" admonished the judge. "You will get your chance to speak. Give them time to say their piece."

"Yes, your Honor."

"Mr. Smith, please continue."

"Thank you, your Honor. Actually, I still can't understand why we were given citations that day. We saw the Game Warden just minutes before the incident. We waved to him. He sat in his boat not one hundred yards from us. He even waved back."

"Hold on a second, Mr. Smith." The judge turned to the Warden. "Is that true? You were in plain sight? They didn't fire in your direction, did they?"

"No, your Honor they didn't. I was just as surprised at what happened next. Still, it happened all the same."

"Okay, Alexander. Let these fellows finish their account. Mr. Smith?"

"Thanks again, your Honor. I had fired off a pair of shots and was checking the casings for damage while Cal was taking a few shots."

"So you did not actually see what happened?" asked the judge.

"No, sir. I looked up just in time to see it hit the water."

"So, you don't know for sure, that your partner wasn't actually aiming at a specific object?"

"Your Honor, I have known Cal Jones for almost thirty years. If he said it was an accident, that's good enough by me."

The judge turned to Cal. "Mr. Jones, I am afraid what you are about say will bear heavily upon the verdict I render. You must convince me your word is as good as your friend so deeply believes."

"I have already sworn to tell the truth, and so I shall. I had taken my first shot, noting the pattern, and had raised my gun for the second shot. I had closed my left eye and softly pulled back on the trigger when something swooped into my path. I was so startled that I physically jerked up and away from my intended sight."

"Alas, I was unable to keep the gun from firing. Even though I managed to change my aim, it didn't matter. The object flew straight into the center of a nice tight shot pattern."

"The object?" asked the judge. "You mean the bird, don't you?"

"No sir, I'm referring to one of those darn fool alien space ships!"

The judge sat stunned for a few seconds. "You mean to tell me that you shot down a Duccak space craft? With one shot?"

"Well, we had loaded our shells pretty heavy this year, your Honor."

Fair Game-2