Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2014 7:17:27 GMT
The three kick Rule... A lesson in life.
An old boy farmer is sat on his tractor ploughing his field when he notices a shiny new Range Rover coming up the lane beside him.
The Range rover stops and out get three young city gents dressed in brand new Barbour Jackets and Hunter wellies.
They then get some shotguns out of the boot of the Range Rover and proceed to start shooting at anything that might fly past.
Somewhat bemused, the old boy stops his tractor, draws deeply on his fag and sits back to watch the toffs at play.
After a while and more by luck than judgement, one of the toffs manages to wing a passing pheasant which lands in the farmers field.
After much whooping and back slapping the toff that finally managed to shoot something walks over to the gate and starts to climb over it in to the farmers field.
The farmer puts out his fag, starts up his tractor and drives over to the gate.
"Where do you think you are going young man" says the farmer nonchalantly.
"I'm coming to get my birdie" says the toff.
"Oh no you're not" says the farmer. "It's on my land so it's my bird" He re lights his fag and spits out of the corner of his mouth for good measure.
"I'll have you know I'm a top London lawyer" says the toff "and I can assure you that in a court of law that bird would be legally mine"
"Ahh yes" says the old farmer. "But this ain't the city and down here in the country we have our own laws". "And this one is covered by the three kick law" he says wryly.
"The three kick law" says the toff a bit confused, "Never heard of it, how does it work?"
"Well,,," Says the farmer. "In order to decide who gets ownership of the bird we have a contest". "First I kick you... Then you kick me... and the last one standing gets the bird"
The young toff looks the farmer up and down and estimating him to be in his 70's and only five foot three inches tall decides he can win easily.
"Okay" says the Toff. "Your kick" He looks over at his mates who are watching with interest. "No problem" he whispers. "I used to play rugger at Eaton and can kick like Johnny Wilkinson"
The old boy climbs down off his tractor. Stands squarely in front of the toff, pulls his leg back and then kicks him right in the knackers.
The young toff sinks to the ground in agony as his mates laugh loudly.
Eventually, after a couple of minutes, the prostrate toff recovers and stands up ready to give the old farmer the biggest kick in the bollox he was ever likely to get.
"Right" says the toff. "my turn now and you are in big trouble"
"It's okay" says the farmer. "I concede... You win... You can keep the bird" He then calmly gets back on his tractor and fecks off.
__________________
An old boy farmer is sat on his tractor ploughing his field when he notices a shiny new Range Rover coming up the lane beside him.
The Range rover stops and out get three young city gents dressed in brand new Barbour Jackets and Hunter wellies.
They then get some shotguns out of the boot of the Range Rover and proceed to start shooting at anything that might fly past.
Somewhat bemused, the old boy stops his tractor, draws deeply on his fag and sits back to watch the toffs at play.
After a while and more by luck than judgement, one of the toffs manages to wing a passing pheasant which lands in the farmers field.
After much whooping and back slapping the toff that finally managed to shoot something walks over to the gate and starts to climb over it in to the farmers field.
The farmer puts out his fag, starts up his tractor and drives over to the gate.
"Where do you think you are going young man" says the farmer nonchalantly.
"I'm coming to get my birdie" says the toff.
"Oh no you're not" says the farmer. "It's on my land so it's my bird" He re lights his fag and spits out of the corner of his mouth for good measure.
"I'll have you know I'm a top London lawyer" says the toff "and I can assure you that in a court of law that bird would be legally mine"
"Ahh yes" says the old farmer. "But this ain't the city and down here in the country we have our own laws". "And this one is covered by the three kick law" he says wryly.
"The three kick law" says the toff a bit confused, "Never heard of it, how does it work?"
"Well,,," Says the farmer. "In order to decide who gets ownership of the bird we have a contest". "First I kick you... Then you kick me... and the last one standing gets the bird"
The young toff looks the farmer up and down and estimating him to be in his 70's and only five foot three inches tall decides he can win easily.
"Okay" says the Toff. "Your kick" He looks over at his mates who are watching with interest. "No problem" he whispers. "I used to play rugger at Eaton and can kick like Johnny Wilkinson"
The old boy climbs down off his tractor. Stands squarely in front of the toff, pulls his leg back and then kicks him right in the knackers.
The young toff sinks to the ground in agony as his mates laugh loudly.
Eventually, after a couple of minutes, the prostrate toff recovers and stands up ready to give the old farmer the biggest kick in the bollox he was ever likely to get.
"Right" says the toff. "my turn now and you are in big trouble"
"It's okay" says the farmer. "I concede... You win... You can keep the bird" He then calmly gets back on his tractor and fecks off.
__________________
