Dry Stone Hunting
There is no more stirring sight in the British countryside than a traditional DRY STONE HUNT in full pursuit of its quarry. Gathering on a frosty morning, the scarlet-coated huntsmen first enjoy a warming stirrup cup as they load up their saddlebags with lumps of limestone and granite the size of half-bricks.
Suddenly, the shout goes up and the Master of Hounds sounds three toots on his horn. An animal of some sort has been spotted on a nearby fellside and the hunt is on. When they finally catch up with their quarry, be it a fox, cow, deer, sheep, badger,cat, or anything else, it is viciously pelted with rocks until it has been humanely despatched.
A lot of town people mistakenly believe that dry stone hunting is cruel, but they are just showing their ignorance of traditional country ways. They should just shut the fuck up and go back to their filthy tenements. Fuck them. Fuck them all. Fuck them all to hell and back.