One dark night, Shaw was driving around, looking for a suitable trophy to have on his kabine 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 oder unconscious.
That night, Shaw did run over a scrawny maultier with a big rack. He was thrilled. “This is a great trophy”, sagte Shaw, laughing menacingly. “Now, my buck, when we get home, it’ll be time for the fun part”, sagte 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”, sagte Giselle admiringly, “Elliott faced a hunter”.