It all began one sunny evening in the month of December. Our hero, Ned, is out for his morning hunt of the dreaded chipmunks. As you can see, he is dressed for the weather. And of course, he has his trusty chipmunk gun.

The day goes on. The sun begins to set in its easterly bed. Ned has not seen a sight of a chipmunk all day so he decides that it is time to head back home. He packs up his things and begins the long journey home.

He carefully examined the rest of his body and discovered he had also sprained his ankle. Though the pain was terrible, Ned dragged himself off the tree and pulled himself to the thorn bush to retrieve his gun. As he reached into the bush for his gun his arm got scratched and cut by the thorns.

Times continued. Hours drag into hundreds of minutes, then thousands of seconds. Ned still laid there, on and on and on.

Another scout exclaimed, “He is in shock!”, and proceeded to treat him with his vast knowledge of first aid by raising Ned’s feet. It was then that the scout noticed the broken ankle and began to treat that.

A third scout shouted, “His nose is broken,” and knelt down to bandage Ned’s head. Ned yelped as the scout knelt on his finger, thus alerting the scout to another injury.

A fourth scout noticed the two puncture wounds on Ned’s arm and shouted, “He has been bitten by a poisonous snake!” He sliced the arm open and began to suck out the poison.

The patrol leader looked at his fleeing members, then at Ned, and then down the trail again. “Wait for me,” he yelled as he took off down the trail after his piers.

Well, there laid Ned, in the middle of the woods in the middle of the month of December, in the twenty below heat. Ned moaned and groaned, and finally decided that if he was going to receive any help he would have to get it himself. He grabbed his trusty chipmunk gun and pulled himself down the trail.

(Ned pulls himself out of the audience view. Once out of view we hear a bang.)

The moral of the story is, “Never put shotgun shells into a rifle.”