The hunter raises his rifle. Steady is his gaze across the woodland realm. He knows full well that if he misses this shot, his family will go hungry for the rest of the winter. Deer this far north are rare in the January month.
Flash and smoke...
The rifle misfires. His prey darts away into the gray trees.
"Oh rat shits! I really wanted some of that stuff." he mumbles to himself
The hungry hunter must walk back home with nothing to feed his poor family. Defeated, he knows deep down that they could have been dinning like champions, had he not shit the bed on that kill shot.
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