Catch wrestling Puns

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

His father had never taught him to fish, and he always wanted to give it a shot. He glanced in the window and saw a beautiful new fishing rod on sale for 10% off. After a moment of contemplation, he turned and headed home, quickly forgetting about the fishing rod.

The next day he walked by again and paused, taking another glance in the window. The fishing rod was still there, only it was 30% off now. He took a few minutes to think it over, but decided against it. He hurried along his way.

The next day, he couldn’t get the idea of sitting on the lake fishing out of his mind. He made up an excuse to walk by the store again, and he peered through the big glass window to see the fishing rod still there, only this time it was 60% off. What a deal! The young man decided he would buy some gear and finally learn how to fish. With a newfound excitement in his step, he opened the door and walked into the store. He made a beeline for the fishing rod, eager to get a feel for it in his hands.

Out of nowhere, the store clerk grabbed him from behind and wrestled him to the ground. Shouts and fighting ensued, until the young man finally broke free and stood up, ready to defend himself against another attack. “What in the world are you doing?!?” the young man asked, still trying to catch his breath.

The store clerk motioned to the blinking sign above the door that read, “Bait and Tackle”