Sven had been a game warden for several years, and was out driving in the countryside, watching for poachers.
He hears a shotgun blast, and looks up at a flock of loon, one of them hit and spiraling down to the ground. Sven is shocked, as loon are an endangered species. He quickly drives over to where the loon fell, only to find his best friend, Ole, picking up the dead bird.
“Ole!” Sven shouts, “Vat the hell are you doing??!! You can’t shoot loon, they’re endangered! I got to write you up, this is very bad! You’re going to yail! I can’t believe you’d do such a thing!” “Oh Sven, please don’t write me up, I didn’ t mean to shoot a loon! I thought they vere geese, the sun vas in my eyes, I can’t go to yail, vat vill Lena do without me??!! Oh, Sven, please! I’ll never do it again!!” Ole begged and pleaded with Sven.
Finally Sven relents and says, “Ok, Ole, but you got to get rid of the evidence! You take da loon home and have Lena cook it up. Eat every bite and bury the feathers deep so nobody knows what you did!” Ole agrees, and heads home with the loon hidden in his bag.
A week goes by and Sven sees Ole at the store. “Ole,” he whispers, “did you get rid of that loon ok?” “Oh, ya, Sven, I did just what you say. I buried the feathers 2 feet down and Lena cooked up da loon, and ve ate every bite! It’s all gone!”
“Dats good, Ole. I guess you got away with it ok. But I’m curious, Ole, what does da loon taste like? I’ve always vondered.” “Oh ya, Sven, it vas pretty good. Kind of a cross between a bald eagle and a vooping crane!”