Part One 

It was a hot day in souther Alberta. A late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the prairie. 

On the far western edge of town a man walked slowly along his property line. Suddenly encountering a buck in the grass a few feet away, he raised his gun to his eye.
 

“Please don’t point that at me,” said the buck.
 

“But it’s hunting season,” replied the man.
 

“Well... if it’s a matter of survival, that’s one thing,” said the buck. “But if it’s a matter of sport, I can think of a better contest.”
 

“What did you have in mind,” asked the man, slowly lowering his gun?
 

“How about a hunting contest,” replied the buck?

“Haha. What does a deer know about hunting,” asked the man?
 

“I eat animals occasionally,” replied the buck.
 

“Is that so,” asked the man?
 

“Yup,” replied the buck. “How about this,” he continued, “the hunter who catches the best meal wins?”
 

“Wins what,” asked the man?
 

“I’d like my freedom,” said the buck.
 

“And what do I win," asked the man?

"Dinner with me, of course," replied the buck.

"Haha," the man laughed again. "How will we judge such a contest,” he asked?
 

“We can vote,” said the buck.
 

“What if it’s a tie,” asked the man?
 

“We can ask one of the forest creatures to help us,” said the buck.
 

“Any one of the them will side with you,” said the man.

“Not necessarily,” replied the buck. 

“If I accept, how do I know you'll come back,” asked the man?
 

“You can trust me,” said the buck.
 

The man pondered. 

"Okay." he said at last, "I trust you. Let’s meet back here in an hour.”
 

“Okay,” said the buck.
 

Man and buck leave the scene.

Part Two

Deep in the forest the man stalked his prey.
 

The buck spied his target.
 

The man raised his gun.
 

The buck drew back his hoof.
 

Finger on the trigger.
 

Leg in the air.
 

Squeeze.
 

Stomp.
 

Cut- to the dinner scene.

Part Three

“You look wet,” said the man?
 

“I went for a swim,” said the buck, “to catch you this, Rocky Mountain Whitefish with a side of Saskatoon berries.”
 

“Thank you,” said the man, "and I've got a little something here for you, BBQ duck seasoned with dandelion root."
 

“Thank you,” said the buck.
 

“Shall we eat,” asked the man, unfolding a pocketknife.

“Let’s,” said the Buck.
 

As man and buck began to eat the wind picked up slightly. The buck’s tail flapped gently.
 

“So, are you from around here,” asked the buck?
 

“Just moved here from New York City,” replied the man, gesturing toward a house on a hill.“
 

“Welcome to Alberta,” said the buck.
 

“Thank you,” said the man. “How 'bout you,” he asked?
 

“I was born right over there on that ridge," replied the buck, gazing across a patch of prairie. 

“Looks like a pretty good spot,” said the man. “How’s the duck,” he asked?
 

“Good,” replied the buck. “How's the whitefish,” he asked?
 

“Good,” replied the man. “Maybe we should we vote,” he added.
 

“May as well,” replied the buck, "although I'm a little nervous about it, I have to admit."

"But your whitefish is nearly perfect,” said the man.
 

“Nearly,” asked the buck?
 

"Well... it could use a little seasoning," replied the man. 

“Seasoning," asked the buck, "I’m not sure I know what that means?”
 

“Salt, pepper, that sort of thing,” replied the man, “to enhance the flavour.”

“Hmm... I've never used seasoning on my food before,” said the buck. "Did you season the duck?"

"I already told you I did," replied the man, "with dandelion root.”
 

"Well in that case, I think my Saskatoon berries 'seasoned' the whitefish,” " said the buck without hesitation.
 

“Not so fast," replied the man. "I sprinkled dandelion root directly on the duck, where as you put your Saskatoon Berries on the side.”
 

“I see your point," said the buck with a sign. "But they still balanced the flavour,” he added.
 

The sun went behind a cloud as the man shook his head slowly from side to side and glared at the buck. 

Glancing over at his gun and then back at the buck he said at last, “maybe now's a good time for you to run off and join your herd?"

The End