[Note: I don’t know for sure, but I attribute this story to Justin Wilson.]

Back in the swamp lands of Southern Louisiana, Theodore Tibedaux had some city folk to come visit him. While they were visiting, they wanted to experience some true bayou life, so they asked Theodore if he would take them to try some alligator hunting. Theodore was obliging, so Theodore and the two men loaded up their rifles in his pickup truck and headed out under the Spanish Moss down an unpaved road back into the darkest part of the Bayou.

  Theodore told the fellows, “Naw ah have to make a stop ‘a the Broussard place an’ let ’em know we’ll be ‘ta roamin’ they property.” Theodore stopped the truck near where some cattle were grazing and walked up to the Broussard cottage.

“ ‘Lo, Amos!” Theodore called.

“ ‘Lo, Theo,” Amos replied. “What you about these parts for?”

Theodore told him, “Ah got some city folk visitin’ and they wan’ try they hands at a ‘gator huntin’. So’s I tol’ ’em we’d try out yore way, but ‘figured I’d stop first t’ ast ya. Ya’ll doin’ well, I presume?” asked Theo.

“No da bess o’ days I e’rd seed.” said Amos.

“Whaz goin’ on?” asked Theo.

“Well, my old kine Abigale is ill, and Doc say she’s too ol’ to recover. I hate to see her suffer. She needs be put down, but I ain’t got da heart. It tears me up sumpin’ fierce.”

“Amos, if’n id do ya, I got da rifle in the truck wi’ me. I’ll jus’ take care o’dat fo ya, then me and them boyz’ll be on ar way.”

” ‘Preciate you’d do at for me, Theo. Yo’re a good man.” said Amos.

   As Theodore walked back to the truck, he spotted the old cow, Abigale, and decided to have some fun with the city folk.

“Dang that Amos Broussard!” Theodore hollered. “He makes me madder ‘an a wet hornet.”

“What happened?” the men asked.

“He said he’s tired o’ people tramplin’ up his property, cuttin’ his fences, an’ leavin’ they trash behind, and said he won’t let us hunt his land. Now, we been frien’s near twenee-six yar, I ‘tol him. I hain’t never did you no ways wrong, but he said he didn’ care. Wasn’ no way he’s lettin’ some city folk come cross his lan’ an take a ‘gator – fren of a fren or no.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” the city boys asked.

“I’ll show him friendship!” and Theodore grabbed his hunting rifle, walked over to Abigale, and *BLAM* shot her in the head.

He waited a moment for the city boys reaction.

Then, from behind, he heard two more shots: *BLAM – BLAM*. Theodore turned around to see one of his guests putting his rifle back in the truck. “Come on, Theodore! I just shot two more of his cows… now let’s get out of here.”