Hunting licenses are down again, despite the DNR’s insistence that the whitetail population is as robust as ever. They release data to the local newspapers and media outlets, and there are articles to spur the harvest. Whitetail deer have been migrating to the suburbs to avoid the harvest and traffic accidents are on the upswing.
Mr. Dixon is back for two more snowmobiles. He writes a check, the idea that he would need to finance the purchase is comedic, never mention financing options to him unless zero percent is available. When Mr. Dixon arrives for his new Ski-Doos, the owner is there for the occasion and the GM, they make sure he feels sufficiently fawned over, Mr. Dixon magnanimous enough to spare them a few moments. It’s a sign of respect if Mr. Dixon takes the time to jaw with you on the showroom floor, in full view of everyone. The GM gives Mr. Dixon our very best price and checks on the prep of his machines. We make very little money when Mr. Dixon buys something. When he grinds us on price, we appreciate this firsthand opportunity to negotiate with a fabulously wealthy, highly successful businessman and cheap fuck that he is, he’ll take his business elsewhere if we don’t meet his price. Where he spends his money and who he does business with is an exclusive club. We always comment on how “down to earth” or “cool” he is when he blows through and graces us with his unprofitable business. Mr. Dixon isn’t a person who likes to “fiddle-fuck around,” like the GM says, and he appreciates that we respect how valuable his time is, because he is the sun and we are blades of grass.
Deer farms stocked with genetically enhanced male deer, bucks with freakish racks of antlers, if you hunt deer this is the ultimate prestige that you stuff and mount for posterity. Used to be if you shot an 8-point buck people were impressed. If you buy a genetically-enhanced deer you can set it loose somewhere, shoot it and have yourself a 16- or 20-pointer, mount that shit over your fireplace and invite your homies over to ooh and ah. The better the deer farm’s product the more points per rack, farms with the pricier deer buying semen, ova and embryos from Mr. Dixon who sits atop this food chain, the unrivaled king of deer eugenics. Mr. Dixon uses only the best bloodlines of whitetail doe or buck, including superstars in whitetail breeder lore like Rumpelstiltskin (23-pointer), Superseed (28-pointer), Goldeneye, 747, Deerstar, legends all, residents of Mr. Dixon’s own deer farm. The big money is in their semen.
The success of his eugenics business spawned a subsidiary manufacturing mechanical deer, robot decoys. His sole customer is the DNR and he is their sole supplier. The DNR places these robot decoys in the woods along country trunk highways to northern woods hunting destinations, to coax hunters driving by into taking a shot, which is a big fine. As the company slogan asks, who can resist a trophy buck? The deer are available in different poses and are lifelike (although only their ears and tails move), encased in actual deer hides with a dry preservative, tanning to make the hide last longer is an extra $200.
Knowing Mr. Dixon, having him as a customer gives us a glimpse from the penthouse. It’s as close as we’ll get, unless we win the lottery, which we don’t expect to but don’t entirely rule out. Even if we don’t make any money on him, and I mean any, not a red cent or copper one. He’s royalty here in whitetail country, where it’s all about the rack.
