Bought a turkey from a Boisfort farm during elk season, got my bill of sale and headed back up to elk camp. Pulled in as if I was going to stop at our camp, then tore off down the road about 60-70 yards, out of sight of my hunting partners. Jumped out and fired 4 rounds into a dirt embankment with my .40 S&W pistol,...... pop, pop, pop, pop, then a short pause and ...................................................pop... another round.

I headed back to camp and pulled in, took off my boots as if nothing had happened, and got myself a beer. One of my partners asked, "What was that shooting all about?" I told him, "Nothin', I missed a grouse."

Ron then goes to his his truck and retrieves his grouse, tosses it at me, and says "Clean my bird, Bitch."

I go to my truck, grab the turkey, that I had shot a mile down the road so they wouldn't hear it, and tell him, "This is a real bird. You clean mine, I'll clean yours." It was a domesticated turkey that looked just like a Merriam. The look on his face was priceless as the blood dripped off of the turkey's head.

So I proceeded to pluck the turkey in camp, feathers everywhere, and my elk camp buddies were shittin' big bricks, thinking I had just poached a turkey. The gamey had been by earlier in the day.

After a while, I showed them the receipt for the bird. Don't ever want to pluck a turkey by hand again.