Inflatable lawn decoration hunting season

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To: Ohio Department of Natural Resources (Division of Wildlife)
Subject: Inflatable lawn decoration hunting season

My next hunting excursion will target these pestsPerhaps you can settle a dispute I am having with my Aunt Judy. She claims that I am breaking hunting laws, and I think she's misinformed.

You see, every year around this time, I hunt around my suburban Cleveland neighborhood. Don't worry: I don't shoot raccoons, squirrels or deer or anything like that. Instead, I stalk around town picking off inflatable lawn decorations that are propped up in my neighbors' front lawns.

I certainly think I'm justified. These creatures are multiplying like crazy. I've seen how the deer and Canadian goose populations have ballooned in recent decades, and I'm only doing my part to make sure the inflatable lawn decoration population doesn't do the same.

I admit that on a personal level, these huge, creepy things have ruined my Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons the last few years. There's just something about them that spooks me - I can sense them staring at me mockingly as I drive by. However, my killing countless numbers of inflatable decorations is plain and simply a calculated means of ensuring that they don't overrun and overwhelm are wonderful Cleveland suburbs. Nothing more.

It all started In 2003. Disturbed by the growing numbers of inflatable concoctions on people's lawns, I started dressing up in camo fatigues and stealthily creeping around the neighborhood, waiting ever so patiently for the perfect time to blast a few rounds of pellets into various inflatable pests.

I must admit I was extremely proficient in my hunting that first year: 13 kills and 7 woundings. Each year since, I've gotten better and better at my hunting techniques. Overall, I boast 106 kills so far.

I don't just shoot from afar either. In fact, when I'm really up for a challenge, I'll throw down my pellet gun and attack one of those things with my authentic Rambo knife. I'll tip-toe up behind one and plunge my knife into its back. It's a total adrenaline rush to hear the air whoosh out of a fresh puncture wound.

Any way, today I was putting on my camouflage face paint for a inflatable decoration hunting excursion when my Aunt Judy was like "You damn well better get a hunting license before you go do that this year. Or you'll get fined." I was like "You don't know what your talking about, woman! I ain't doin' nothin' wrong."

Just to shut her up for me, can you write back and tell my Aunt Judy that she's stupid, that I don't need no stinking hunting license and that she needs to stop putting onions in her Italian Wedding soup?

I appreciate your time.

Leaving to go stalk inflatable prey,
John Farnswell