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Late one Friday afternoon, our friend Billy Hill went hunting for deer.

"Hey ma, grab me my huntin' gun! I'm going to get me some 'o those deers!"

Ma hands Billy a gun.

"Billy Bob Hill, now don't go doin' somethin' stupid like shootin' yerself in the eye with that there gun!"

"Ok Mama."

Five hours later, Billy comes home with his deer.

"Hey Mama, I got somethin' to tell ya!"

"Did ya shoot yerself in the eye?"

"No mama!"

"Then who'd ya shoot this time? It wasn't Joe from down the street was it? Cause ifin' it was, his daddy's gonna beat your butt an' I ain't gonna stop him!"

"No! I got the purdiest deer anybodys ever seen 'round these parts!"

"Let me take a look at that there deer, Billy!"

Mama Hill stares at the deer when Billy brings it in.

"Sure has a purdy coat, don't it Ma? Darn thing sure was hard to kill though! After I shot it a few dozen times, the darn thing still didn' wanna die! So's I got up and beat it with the butt'a my gun! Hey Ma, what kinda gun is that, anyways? It's got some funny colored bullets!"

"Oh, Billy, that ain't no huntin' gun! That's your daddy's paintin' gun!"

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