One dark night, Shaw was driving around, looking for a suitable trophy to have on his cabin, kibanda wall. Shaw, using his headlights, would run over a buck and tie it to the hood. He didn’t care if the buck was dead au unconscious.
That night, Shaw did run over a scrawny nyumbu, mule with a big rack. He was thrilled. “This is a great trophy”, alisema Shaw, laughing menacingly. “Now, my buck, when we get home, it’ll be time for the fun part”, alisema Shaw.
When the illegal hunter got home, he slung the buck on the table. He got a set of scissors and started to cut one of the buck’s eyes. The eye was out of the socket. There was quite a bit of blood, but Shaw didn’t care, he actually thought it was cool. The glass eye was in, and as Shaw started to cut the other eye, the deer reared up with conciseness and kicked Shaw in the face, leaving him out cold. The deer scurried into the night scurrying back to his herd and told them his story. “Whoa”, alisema Giselle admiringly, “Elliott faced a hunter”.
That night at Shaw’s cabin, Shaw woke and started to go out with his gun to get the deer, but it was so cold, he gave up that night. He was determined to get that buck someday. Someday SOON!