One time in the North, there were three moose hunters.
They hire one of those planes that lands on water, to take them out into the wilderness to go moose hunting.
The plane drops them off and they say, “See you back this time on Friday.” And the pilot says, “Good luck”, and takes off.
So, they camp out in the woods, and they avoid the bears. And they managed to shoot three great moose.
The plane comes back and lands on the lake and taxis to the shore. They say, “We’re going to load up these three moose.”
The pilot says, “We’ll never be able to take off with those. They’re far too heavy.” But they say, “No, nonsense, nonsense. The pilot last year said that, and we took off.”
“Well, if you’re absolutely sure.”
So, they load up these very heavy moose and pull the plane right to the shoreline, get up the maximum speed and they’re taxiing across the water, get up enough speed and rise just above the tips of the trees — except then there’s just a bigger tree and they bang into it.
The plane flips slightly, and the pilot loses control, and they spin into the trees, and they crash horribly, and they’re all thrown into the air.
Then there’s a kind of boom, boom, boom, then silence. Just groaning.
One of the hunters calls out, “Mick,you okay? How you doing?”And Mick says, “Is that you,John? I’m okay. I think I might have broken something, but I’m fine. Where are we? Where are we, Mick? Where did we land?”
And John says, “About 20 feet further than last year!”
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