A big city lawyer went duck hunting in rural Virginia. He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer's field on
 the other side of a fence.  

As the lawyer climbed over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing.

The litigator responded, 'I shot a duck and it fell in this field, and now I'm going to retrieve it.' 

The old farmer replied, 'This is my property, and you are not coming over here.'

The indignant lawyer said, 'I am one of the best trial attorneys in the United States and, if you don't let me get that duck, I'll sue you and take everything you own.'

The old farmer smiled and said, 'Apparently, you don't know how we settle disputes in Virginia. We settle small disagreements with the 'Three Kick Rule''

The lawyer asked, 'What is the 'Three Kick Rule'?'

The Farmer replied, 'Well, because the dispute occurs on my land, I get to go first. I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on back and forth until someone gives up.'

The attorney quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old Gizzard. He agreed to abide by the local custom.

The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the attorney. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel toed work boot into the lawyer's groin and dropped him to his knees.

His second kick to the midriff sending the lawyer's last meal gushing from his mouth.

The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer's third kick to his rear end, sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie.

The lawyer summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet.

Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, 'Okay, you old fart. Now it's my turn.'

(I love this part)

The old farmer smiled and said, 'Nah, I give up. You can have

the duck.'

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