They sat in the duck blind, a little dizzy from the beer. Homer and Dan pointed their rifles lazily skyward while Les tried the duck call.

"That's the best goddamn duck call I ever heard," said Homer.

Les looked at Homer sideways and slowly put the duck call down.

"That was a good duck call, Les," said Dan. "You got anything you want to tell us?"

They were interrupted as quacking rang out over the reeds and ducks burst into flight all around. Homer and Dan raised their shotguns, squeezing the triggers at almost the same time. Over the rushing and flapping sounds they could hear the hammers click, but neither gun fired.

Dan gawked at his gun while Homer swore and cracked his open, crammed in two cartridges of #2 duck shot, and snapped it shut. When Homer raised it again he saw Les rising into the sky, his arms straining and flapping at the air, quacking.

"Damn it, he fooled with the guns. He's gone native!" said Homer. He brought the stock to his shoulder and sighted Les.

Dan gently pushed the barrel of Homer's gun off target. Homer grunted, but he let the gun droop.

"If he wants to be a duck, let him be a duck," Dan said. He snapped open a new beer and took a long pull. "We'll get him next year."