Just as I step outside, a deer barrels straight into me all like, "Bro! Watchyerself!" and then just pimp-walks away from me. So, this is exactly what I'm looking to hunt, but all I've got on me right at that precise moment is a pickaxe, robes, and some decorating crap. "Whatever, it's just a deer." I tell myself as I begin pursuit, pickaxe in hand.
So, I'm chasing the thing and it's night, so it's quite dark, and because I can't one-hit it with my pickaxe, the chase starts to go on a little longer than I'm comfortable with. At this point, I figure one of two things will happen: 1) I'll finally make the kill or 2) I'll run afoul of something or someone quite hostile that I won't be able to dispatch with a pickaxe and some leather strips. I ultimately decide to continue the pursuit concluding: "Worst-case scenario: Before I kill the deer, I'll run into some real baddies in which case I'll simply turn around and haul it back to the house." No biggie, right?
Wrong. The chase goes on and I can see in the darkness ahead of me that the deer has suddenly stopped. "He must be stuck on something!" I say to myself with much elation, as I raise my axe back and charge headlong towards the deer....
...and just as the axe is about to come down, the friggin' deer leaps out of the way. My arm swings at thin air and the rest of me falls directly into a pit of spikes just outside of Halted Stream Camp. Seconds later, I'm dead.
Most. Embarrassing. Hunt. Ever.