With Friends Like These...
This is one of Trevor's stories. Just like the one in the bar, I was not present for the events. I only got to hear about them after the fact. I will do my best to recall the story as I heard it.
A few years ago, an acquaintance of Trevor's invited him and some of his buddies to a Sunday afternoon barbecue. While they were trying to decide if they had anything better going on that day, the host drops another detail about the party.
"We will be having ostrich!"
"An ostrich barbecue? Count us in!"
The following weekend, Trevor and his buddies left early to make sure they could find the place since they had never been there before. They arrived about an hour early and the host was happy to see them. He said he needed help getting ready and he didn't have the ostrich yet. They all piled in the back of his truck and took off.
The host drove them to a barn in the middle of nowhere. Trevor asked, "What are we doing here?" He was told, "This is where the ostrich is." Trevor then realized that the meal for the day was still alive. This day just kept getting more interesting.
They opened up a gate to the pasture and drove the truck in. After driving around several acres, they finally saw the large bird off in the distance. Their host handed a .22 rifle to the guys in back of the truck and told them to shoot it when they drove close enough. He also told them that it had to be shot in the head. A body shot would not kill it. One of the guys happily grabbed the rifle to be the one to get the shot, but soon realized this was not an easy feat.
As the truck got closer, the ostrich ran off and the driver accelerated. The truck gave chase as the driver yelled for him to shoot as he pulled up along side the ostrich. Unfortunately, the ostrich didn't allow for that. As the truck would catch up and start to pull to one side, the ostrich would turn away from it as the driver screamed, "SHOOT!"
Eventually, one of them got lucky and the bird went down. The driver jumped stopped quickly, jumped out and cut off the head with a machete. Ostriches react much in the same way as chickens when their heads are removed, except in this case, the flopping bird could kill you if you got too close.
Once it settled down, they all grabbed on to throw it into the back of the truck. However, this was 300 pounds of dead weight. They couldn't get a decent grip on it. Every time they tried to pick it up, they were only successful on the sides. They couldn't get the bulk of it off the ground. They couldn't even roll it in.
By this time, they had been out for over an hour. People would be showing up at the BBQ by now expecting to eat. The host was getting anxious to get moving. He dug some chains out from behind the seat and secured them to the bird's feet and the other end to the bumper of his truck. He said if they could get it to the barn, they could come up with something to get it in the truck. They were over a half mile out in the pasture, but they drug that ostrich all the way.
Once they got to barn, they tried setting up boards on the tailgate to roll it in and several other methods. Nothing seemed to work. Eventually, they threw a rope over one of the rafters in the barn and used the truck to lift the bird into the air. They secured the rope and then drove the truck underneath and lowered it back down.
Trevor and his friends stuck around. After all the work they had put into getting it here, they weren't about to miss out. Plus, they were covered in ostrich blood and figured this might be the only place where that look would be acceptable.
After Trevor finished his story, I asked him what he thought of ostrich meat. His reply was simple.
"It tastes like chicken."