On the basement wall of my hunting buddies parent’s house hangs the fan of a big, wild turkey.
Me: Myron, there has got to be a great story about how you shot that turkey.
Myron: Nope. I’m afraid there is no story about how I shot that turkey.
Me: What do you mean?
Myron: I didn’t shoot it. I was driving my pickup along the road one day when that bird walked in front of my bumper. I tried to dodge him, but I managed to just clip him enough to kill him. So I pulled over and threw him in the back of my pickup.
Me: You mean to tell me that you mounted the fan of a turkey that you didn’t even shoot?
Myron: I suppose I do.
Me: You can’t do that.
Myron: Sure I can. It’s hanging right there!