Ducks

A sardar went hunting one day in Ontario and bagged three ducks. He put them in the bed of his pickup truck and was about to drive home when he was confronted by an ornery game warden who didn't like sardars. The game warden ordered the sardar to show his hunting licence, and the sardar pulled out a valid Ontario hunting licence.

The game warden looked at the licence, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed its butt, and said, "This duck ain't from Ontario. This is a Quebec duck. You got a Quebec huntin' licence, boy?"

The sardar reached into his wallet and produced a Quebec hunting licence. The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed its butt, and said "This ain't no Quebec duck. This duck's from Manitoba. You got a Manitoba licence?"

The sardar reached into his wallet and produced a Manitoba hunting licence.

The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck, sniffed its butt, and said, "This ain't no Manitoba duck. This duck's from NovaScotia. You got a Nova Scotia huntin' licence?"

Again the sardar reached into his wallet and brought out a Nova Scotia hunting licence.

The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the sardar "Just where the hell are you from?"

The sardar smiled turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said, "You tell me, you're the expert."



*Contributed by my dear friend Chandrasekhar G