The big-game hunter walked into the bar and bragged¹ to everyone about his skills as a hunter. The man was undoubtedly² a good shot and no one could dispute that. But then he said that he could recognize any animal’s skin by feeling it, and he could tell what caliber³ rifle was used to shoot it by locating the bullet hole.

This was a bit too much for the other customers, and soon a heated argument started. The hunter said that he was willing to prove it if they would put up the drinks, and the bet was on. They blindfolded⁴ him and took him to his first animal skin. After feeling it for a few moments, he announced, "Springbok." Then he felt for the bullet hole and declared, "And it was shot with a .22 rifle."

He was right! The others could not believe it and the argument was even hotter than before. When someone suggested that he must have peeped, he said that he was prepared to do it again for another round. So they blindfolded him again, very thoroughly⁵ this time, and they brought a skin that someone happened to have in the trunk of his car.

He took a bit longer this time and then said, "Kalahari Lion." Fingering the bullet hole, he added, "The rifle was a .308."

He was right again! This only made the crowd more curious, and he had to prove his skills over and over again, every time winning a round of drinks. Finally he staggered home, bombed out of his mind, and went to sleep. The next morning he got up and saw in the mirror that he had one hell of a shiner. So he said to his wife, "Listen, I know I was drunk last night, but not too drunk to know that I didn’t get into a fight. So where did I get this black eye?"

His wife replied angrily, "From me!"

"What did I do?" he asked.

She replied, "You got into bed and put your hand inside my panties. Then you fiddled⁶ around a bit and announced, 'Skunk⁷, killed with an ax!'"