The ‘Three Kicks’ Rule


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Myself 

By T. V. Antony Raj
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An educated person will go all the way to prove his point,
but an intelligent person knows when to retreat …

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Old Farmer

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Recently, I came across a joke that dates back to the 1990s about a hotshot big city lawyer and the “three-kick rule of rural North Cowra.”

Cowra is a town in the Central West region of New South Wales, Australia in the Cowra Shire. When I scoured the net to find the originator of this popular joke, I found many authors had duplicated the gist of the story using various places for the origin of the “Three Kicks Rule“: Arizona, Louisiana, Texas, Montana, Minnesota, Tennessee and a lot of other places.

Here is the story that I read the first time:

A big city hotshot lawyer went duck hunting in rural North Cowra in the Central West region of New South Wales, Australia.

The first bird he shot fell on the other side of a fence into the field of a grouchy elderly farmer.

The farmer seated on his tractor spotted the lawyer climbing over the fence, and asked him what he was doing.

The lawyer responded, “The duck I shot fell in your field, and now I am going to retrieve it.”

The ill-tempered old farmer replied, “This is my property, and how can you jump over my fence?”

The irate lawyer said: “Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t care who you are. Get off my field,” shouted the farmer.

“I am one of the leading trial lawyers in Australia and, if you do not let me get that duck, I will sue you, take everything you own and leave you stranded on the road.”

The old farmer smiled and said: “You city slickers apparently don’t know how we settle disputes in North Cowra.”

“How?”

“We settle small disputes like this with the ‘Three Kick Rule’.”

“What is the ‘Three Kick Rule‘?” the lawyer asked.

The Farmer replied, “Because the dispute occurs on my land, I get to go first. I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on back and forth until someone gives in.”

The lawyer quickly thought about the proposed ‘Three Kick Rule’ and thought he could easily take the old codger. So, he agreed to abide by the local custom.

The old farmer got down from his tractor and cautiously walked up to the lawyer. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel-toed work boot into the lawyer’s groin and dropped him to his knees.

His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer reeling with his last meal spewing out of his mouth. The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer’s third kick to his rear end, sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie.

Summoning every bit of his will and remaining strength the lawyer managed to get on to his feet. Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said: “Okay, you old fart. Now it’s my turn.”

(Now comes the part I love …)

The old farmer smiled and said: “Nah, I give up. You can have the duck.”

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