I once played a prank on an old time friend and hunting partner.He though he had the best spot picked out for his stand.As so did I.when i came to my stand one morning it was gone.He had moved it 3 trees over.So i figured i would make it even.So i found a nice looking tree on a trail above his stand.I took a rock and fixed a fake rub on it.It made him crazy.Thought he had a big buck comeing his way .

Where I grew up hunting it was all old time Mennonite farmers and Amishmen, in Central PA. The humor there is sometimes cold and harsh. One event that is still as clear as a bell to me happened one evening while sitting in camp after the first day of deer season. The custom was to go camp hopping in the evening, swapping stories of the day’s events. Well, there was a certain city fella that somehow had got permission to hunt the property in and around our camp area, I think through marriage or some such thing, but he wasn’t very well liked. He stayed in a camper at the bottom of the lane that led up to camp, about a mile or so up the mountain. Well he comes in to camp and the small talk soon switched to some prime property that just got posted that year because of a cow that was shot the year before (some felt that it was this fella that did it). Anyway, he brings the topic up, asking why John A. posted the property, not realizing that John A., who arrived a few minutes before, was sitting right next to him. Seems he knew the name of the owner, but not the owner himself. Well, as old farmer humor goes, my Uncle starts egging him on, with statements like, “I don’t know why he would have done that. Doesn’t seem right, though, huh?” The guys takes the bait and says, “Hell no!! Who the hell does he think he is? I’ve hunted that property for years now.” My uncle counters with, “Well, have you talked to him yet?” The city fella pauses a second and says, “Yeah, I tried to. I saw him out in the pasture and we talked a while but when I asked him why he posted the property, the Sonuva B**** waved me off and drove off on his tractor.” The whole time John A. is just sitting there beside the guy nodding. Finally the guy left after my uncle kept at him a while longer, getting him to say more and more negative things about a man he never met, but is sitting right beside him. When he closed the door behind him, my uncle says to John A., “He doesn’t seem to like you posting your land, or you, for that matter.” All the old timers laughed their butts off but I just sat there dumbfounded, experiencing my first taste of old time Mennonite farmer and Amish humor.

-Brad
Eastern Nebraska Bowhunter

We had a fellow that kept sneaking his way into our hunts, this guy was always bragging and picking on us young guys about not having an good hunting experiances and the likes. Well my Uncle invited some other guys to go coon hunting with us shortly before the deer season started. Fellows brought a slew of dogs up and we penned them up. That day after every one was there here comes this guy saying that he had heard that we would be doing some coon hunting and wanted to give it a try. So he invited himself in again. He imedistly started on us youngsters and before the coffee was done brewing was teling the old coon hunters that thier dogs were not as good as they should be and that he new more about hunting than all of them. Well about an hour or so before dark one of the old guys slips me a bottle of coon pee. without hesitation me and my brother slipped into the cabin were he had stowed his stuff dug out his boots and pants and poured the pee on them.
We had the dogs out and ready to hit the track when out he comes all dressed up to hunt at a country club. The dogs started going nuts pulling and jerking us youngsters around so we just let them go and they ran strait at him, he was scared s***less started screaming like a little girl. The dogs stopped and just barked at him for maybe 2 solid minutes, the old guys and us were LOAO when my uncle told him not to move because he didn't know if he could control the dogs. This guy is standing there white as a sheet as each one of the dogs walked up to him and peed on his legs or on his boots. After the dogs all got done we hit the trail and every time this guy got winded by one of the dogs it would come over and pee on him. He got fed up after about an hour and headed back to camp. When we got back early the next morning he was gone, never saw him at any of our camps again.

Misplaced Buckeye