A Canned Hunt for Charity: Featuring Ted Nugent

roflbot121214You may recall that two years or so ago, Ted Nugent, the man who literally shat his pants to get out of Vietnam and adopted a teenage girl so he could have sex with her, told an NRA crowd that he would be dead or in jail if President Obama was reelected. Guess what? President Obama is still president, and yet Nugent roams free, promoting canned white tail deer hunts, making Alex Jones look sane – and just generally being a giant asshole.

I think we should organize a charity canned hunt with Ted Nugent. We wouldn’t use real bullets; we’d use the same rubber bullets riot police use. He could wear that little loincloth of which he is so fond, and all the money raised would go to Greenpeace, World Wildlife Fund and the Sierra Club. Tickets would be $500 a piece, and would include lunch. We would supply the rifles, the gear, and the rubber bullets, while Ted would provide the tears.

Look, I’m a pacifist, but this guy promised he’d be dead or in jail by now, and neither of those things have happened! And I am not for one minute suggesting we kill Ted Nugent, which is probably nicer than what he would say about me, so unclench your butt cheeks, tightie righties. All I’m proposing is a win-win for sane people who love animals and despise Ted Nugent.

We could promote the charity canned Nugent hunt on social media and hold it at his house. Pastor Charles Worley could set up a long, electrified fence and a slightly doped up Nugent would be dropped behind that fence (two shots of Nyquil ought to do it). Participants would suit up with protective goggles, gloves and padded vests after signing a release form, and stating they understand Nugent is not to be killed. You may, however, shoot him in the face. Cheney did that to his lawyer and everything was fine, right? Right.

I figure as soon as Teddy sees the first group of hunters, he’ll scream like a rabid hyena and try to escape. Which is where the shit throwing crab monkeys come in. Every time Nugent approaches the fence, a crab monkey will lob a huge pile of shit right at him. Ted will scream again, possibly swearing, and lunge for the fence, at which point he will receive a mild electric shock. Covered in poo, twitching and cursing, tears streaming down his face. Wearing a loincloth.

Once each person has fired 6 rubber bullets at Nugent, the canned hunt ends. A gourmet luncheon featuring an assortment of appetizers, soups, salads, and beverages will be served in a large tent while mandolin players soothe the guests. Ted gets saltines and flat diet Sprite. After lunch, guests will have the opportunity to get their picture taken with Ted Nugent. We’ll turn off the electrified fence and the crab monkeys can hold Uncle Ted down while hunters pose, squatting next to him, grinning. For $15, you can have the photo made into your family Christmas card.

Given that Ted McShitty Pants has threatened the life of a sitting president and the former Secretary of State, promised to be dead or in jail (neither of which have happened), called the President of the United States a “subhuman mongrel” and compared him to a chimp, the least we can do is imprison Ted behind an electrified fence, shoot rubber bullets at him, watch crab monkeys throw shit at him, and then take his picture. It’s only fair.

Oh, I almost forgot. For all the “family values” party members, have you ever seen the lyrics to Uncle Pants Pooper’s song, “Jailbait?” Here are a few samples, and you can check the whole thing out right here.

Jailbait you look so good to me
Jailbait won’t you set me free
Jailbait you look fine fine fine
I know I’ve got to have you in a matter of time

My personal nausea inducing section:

Well I don’t care if you’re just thirteen
You look too good to be true
I just know that you’re probably clean
There’s one lil’ thing I got do to you

And in closing:

Honey you you you look so nice
She’s young she’s tender
Won’t you please surrender
She’s so fine she’s mine
All the time, all mine mine
It’s all right baby
It’s quite all right I asked your mama
Wait a minute officer
Don’t put those handcuffs on me
Put them on her and I’ll share her with you

Jailbait, jailbait

Canned Hunt for Charity’s looking a little better now, isn’t it?

Erin Nanasi

Erin Nanasi is the creator of The Bachmann Diaries: Satirical Excerpts from Michele Bachmann's Fictional Diary. She hates writing about herself in the third person. Erin enjoys reading, writing, and spending time with family. And wombats. Come visit Erin on on Facebook. She also can be found on Twitter at @WriterENanasi.


Facebook comments