It's a hot evening and I was just cutting up some food, and I flashed back to a story Tiny told me.   

Wasn't actually a "story", it was an explaination of why Tiny didn't have any front teeth.

Tiny wasn't.    He got that nick name just for the reverse.   6'7".   Carry a cast iron bathtub up four flights on his back - alone.  Like breaking sticks.   Tiny my ass.   A giant.

And in the fall he and another mutual friend went up North with their rifles.  Got their licenses.  Got their ammo.   Got their beer.

Head first.  Into the Woods.

Blam. BLAM.  BLAMMM!

Just like My Cousin Vinny.

Tiny hit the buck with a slug.   But the buck didn't go down.  It went off through the woods.  

Tiny's adrenaline shot way up.    Chase that muther fucking buck.    

Blood trail in the fall leaves.   Maybe a leg draggin too.   Gonna get the MFing buck....

Through the bush Tiny ripped.   More blood.   Maybe even warm blood....

Over a rock, down, down a little rise...

BLAMMM! Fucking buck is right there in front of Tiny, charging at Tiny.   

Got a knife in his belt.  Tiny slashes,  Goes over into the leaves,  buck has smashed Tiny over but TIny has a hand on the antlers.

Grisly. Grisly.  Survival stuff going on now for everbody.  

Buck knows it too, and kicks, kicks with its good leg, KICKs, KICKS all Tiny's top front teeth out.   

Then Tiny plants the knife in to deep chest flesh....

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When I heard this - I had asked Tiny what the Hell had happened to his front teeth - probably was on mid week plumbing job - Tiny was a plumber - I have to tell you I was cheering for the buck.  

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This was a Trayvon Martin discussion, wasn't it?    

God damn buck, what an aggressive bastard....