Anyway, while we were trying to figure out what to do with this critter, a truck pulled into the lane and drove down to the barn. It was Dad's friend Billy. He gets out of the truck and comes over to see the deer. We shoot the bull for awhile, and then Billy asks me how I'm gonna butcher this deer.

I just pulled my big ol' Buck knife out and says, "With this! What the hell else would I use?" Billy gave me one of them looks and says, "No no no, son! You bring that deer and some beer over to my house on Monday night, and we'll butcher that thing the RIGHT way." Not knowin' any better, I told him that I'd be there.

When Monday rolled around, I loaded the deer and beer in my Jeep and headed for Billy's house. I get there, and find about ten pickup trucks parked all over Billy's yard and in the driveway. Looks like a big ol' party's goin' on. I headed for the shed that looked to be the center of the activity. When I get inside, I find a pack of rednecks assembled, the likes of which are seldom seen in civilized places.

There's three or four deer in the process of bein' skinned, Billy's runnin' the band saw cuttin' steaks, and a coupla other hoodlums are grindin' burger. Everbody else is doin' what rednecks normally do: drinkin' beer and tellin' lies.

Well it was a cold night, and Billy had the old coal stove workin' overtime to keep the shed warm. Problem was, all of his firewood was green, and it wouldn't burn for $h!t. Billy's cousin Jerry was the designated stove tender, and would periodically pour some used motor oil into the stove to keep the fire up. The butcherin' was goin' well, and everybody was havin' a good time.

When Billy would start to get cold, he'd yell out, "Oil that fire, Jerry!", and everyone else would chime in, "Oil that fire, Jerry!". Since all ol' Jerry had to do was tend the fire, he had plenty of time to get rip-roarin' drunk, and after the last chorus of "Oil that fire, Jerry!", he picked up the wrong jug. This one was full of chainsaw gas. Jerry opened the stove and started to pour. It took him a few seconds to realize that the fire was traveling up the stream of gas and headin' for the jug that he was holdin'. Soon as it registered he dropped the jug on the floor, and it shattered, spreading burnin' gas all over the floor of the shed.

This got everyone's attention real quick! Billy's cousin Russell starts yellin' "We gotta get Billy outta here fast!", and dancin' around in the fire. See, Billy lost both of his legs just above the knees in a haybaler. He had prosthetic legs and used crutches to help him walk. In all of the commotion, Russell knocked Billy down, and we had to drag him out of the shed.

Soon as we got Billy out, I ran out to my Jeep and grabbed a fire extinguisher. By the time I got back to the shed the fire had gotten into the electrical panel and knocked out the power. I ran inside and emptied the fire bottle in the general vicinity of the stove. Someone had gotten the garden hose hooked up, and luckily it wasn't frozen solid. We got the fire put out and made a quick damage assesment.

The electrical panel was fried, but other than that nothing was burned too badly. We ran a couple of extension cords out from the house, got some lights goin', and finished butcherin' the deers.

I think Billy and Jerry both got a good skillet-whoppin' from their wives later that night.