Old Sig's First Kill

Dr. Sigmond Xavior struck a confidant pose atop the dead truchalor. One hand resting on his ammo belt the other holding the warm barrel of the plasma rifle he used to slay the beast. He was smoking a meerschaum pipe filled with native tobacco. The smoke smelled of peppermint and lime as it mixed with the thick, humid atmosphere.

A green native chap squatted in the dirt in front of the kill, making unintelligible sounds. One would never have guessed that it was the scrawny native who actually made the huge truchalor hold still long enough to be shot by the good doctor. Old Sig had never managed to get such a prize kill in over twelve off world safaris. It had taken us a week to even find the trail of the mighty truchalor, by that time we were all ready to get out of the wild and back aboard our rocket ship.

I snapped the picture, knowing that the true story would only be known by myself and Dr. Xavior.

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