A Cajun went duck hunting one day way up north near Shreveport and bagged three ducks. He put them in the bed of his pickup truck and was about to drive home when he was confronted by an ornery game warden who didn't like Cajuns.

The game warden ordered the Cajun to show his hunting license, and the Cajun pulled out a valid Louisiana hunting license. The game warden looked at the license, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed its butt, and said, 'This duck ain't from Louisiana. This is a Texas duck. You got a Texas huntin' license, boy?'

The Cajun reached into his wallet and produced a Texas hunting license. The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed its butt, and said, 'This ain't no Texas duck.

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This duck's from Arkansas . You got a Arkansas license?'

The Cajun reached into his wallet; and produced an Arkansas hunting license. The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck, sniffed its butt, and said 'This ain't no Arkansas duck. This here duck's from Mississippi . You got a Mississippi huntin' license?'

Again the Cajun reached into his wallet and brought out a Mississippi hunting license. The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the Cajun 'Just where the hell are you from?'

The Cajun turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said, 'You tell me. You're the expert.'