Bring It!

It would seem there's a newbie running around hubpages, calling himself the Mighty Hunter. I suspect this to be someone who has actually been here a while. He (or she) is simply trying to hide his/her identity, while carrying out their cowardly agenda of eradicating the noble Jackalope from this world.

They have begun by publishing a hub comprised entirely of propaganda, and half-truths. Feel free to go and read it. I'll wait.

I have a rather modest fan base here, and I believe this is an attempt to turn them against me. It appears to be working. I couldn't help but notice that my business partner, Patty Inglish, is suddenly publishing jackalope recipes. Oh Patty, I'm so disappointed!

I'm quite sure this interloper will continue to besmirch the good name of Evilpants (they never learn), and I will fight them at every turn! So, my friends, in the interest of self preservation, here is the rest of the story.

Looking at his profile, I see that this guy is from a city called Not Set. I lived there briefly, many years ago. I do remember the encounter that is the subject of his hub. Although I remember it somewhat differently than he does.

There I was, minding my own business, frolicing in a field. I had just spotted a patch of wild butter tarts, and hopped over for a closer look. Just as I was taking in the heavenly aroma, a rock came sailing out of nowhere, and skipped off the back of my head. Now this was a pretty big rock, and it sent me flipping through the air, legs flailing, to land unconscious in the tall grass, some ten feet away. I awoke to find a particularly obnoxious looking kid, six or seven years of age, poking me with a stick and sporting an evil grin. This was a sickening turn of events, but I curbed the urge to attack this little demon. Choosing to take the higher ground, I high-tailed it to the woodline. Reaching the edge of the woods, I turned to see if I was being pursued. What I saw, froze me in my tracks.

This little urchin had a BB gun trained on me, and appeared intent on carrying out my execution! At this point, instinct took over. With the kindest of looks on my face, I beckoned him to come closer. Surely he would see how harmless I was. This put him off his guard, and he walked within three feet of me. Then he faltered, and raised his gun, again. I had no time to think. Pure reflex propelled my antlers into his shins. I felt truly bad for the kid, but no animal can shrug off the "fight or flight" response. And with Jackalopes, fight always wins out over flight. We were both victims of evolution, at that point. I would also take this opportunity to point out that he cried like a little girl. He ran off screaming "Mommy! Mommeeeeee!" So perhaps this vendetta is the result of the realisation that he is not quite as tough and manly as he would like. Who knows?

Through the years, I have often wondered what became of that kid. Well now I know. And apparently, the conventional wisdom that people are incapable of change, is true. But now he is an adult. He should know better. He should also know, as I have pointed out in the past, that poking a sleeping Jackalope is never wise.

It is here that I will leave this story, that I may go about the business of girding my loins for battle. I do hope that Mighty Hunter comes to his senses, soon. It would be tragic if another human lost their life because they thought they were smarter than a Jackalope. But I suspect that this one, like so many before him, will have to learn the hard way.