A hillbilly went hunting one day in Georgia 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 hillbillies.
The game warden ordered the hillbilly to show his hunting license; the hillbilly pulled out a valid Georgia hunting license.
The game warden looked at the license, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed its butt and said, ‘This duck ain’t from Georgia. This is a Tennessee duck. You got a Tennessee huntin’ license, boy?’
The hillbilly reached in to his wallet and produced a Tennessee hunting license.
The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed its butt and said ‘This ain’t no Tennessee duck. This duck’s From Mississippi. You got a Mississippi license?’
The hillbilly reached into his wallet and produced a Mississippi hunting license.
The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck, sniffed its butt and said, ‘This ain’t no Mississippi duck. This here duck’s from South Carolina. You got a South Carolina huntin’ license?’
Again the hillbilly reached into his wallet and brought out a South Carolina hunting license.
The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the hillbilly, ‘Boy, just where the hell are you from?’
The hillbilly turned around, dropped his pants, bent over and said, ‘You tell me. You’re the expert.’