Calling Predators by the Seat of Morg's Pants

Calling Game with a Tape Recorder, a Poke Stick, and Spit Wads

      My cousin, Morgan Hendricks, and I tried calling game with a store-bought call, but all that came to us were stray dogs, nosy neighbors, and the local ambulance service.

      The ambulance stopped coming after the medical technicians hauled me to the hospital three times, though, because the hospital doctors told them that, regardless of how bad I looked and how pitiful my situation was, they could do nothing to help me.

      Soon even the dogs and neighbors stopped coming to our varmint calls, so Morg decided to investigate other approaches for calling game.

      One day in Hermann's sporting goods store, we heard a taped demonstration of somebody (who must have been a famous hunter and game caller or else they wouldn't have had him make the tape) calling game.

      “That odious sound has unprecedented resemblance to the squall your sister, LaTonne, emits when she announces the post-midday meal,” Morg said.

      “How you gonna get her to call coyotes for us?” I asked.

      “By digitally recording her vociferous, audible emission the next time she announces said meal, and subsequently by broadcasting said audio emission at any interval in which we wish to invite game,” Morg answered.

      So we headed over to Cables Copperplug's to rent some audio recording equipment. We had rented from Cables before, so Morg knew he would have to bargain really hard to keep the rental price down.

      “We possess no legal authorization to market said product, because we have no copyright transfer from the voice owner to us, and we have no voice release form from said female,” Morg announced. “How may we market rights that we do not own?”

      “Simple,” replied Cables. “You are not selling what you don't have. You are selling what you don't have yet. But a strong market exists for such sounds. The Smithsonian will undoubtedly be interested if they ever hear the tape.”

      “Why? They havin' trouble gettin' large crowds to leave the exhibits at closing time?” I asked.

      “But beyond the Smithsonian,” Cables continued, “commercial applications include scaring pigeons off from statues, setting up speakers in old buildings and turning on the sound full blast in order to knock the buildings down, and playing the tape instead of loud music to keep holed-up crooks awake so they will surrender sooner.”

      “That'd happen if the police just showed the crooks LaTonne's picture,” I added.