Kauai seems to have a fairly large population of chickens that roam wild around the towns. Roosters with flamboyant combs and proud curving tail feathers, and the slightly less flashy hens.
Someone has decided we could make our fortune by forming a tourist outfitter on the island for hunting chickens. With crossbows. “Nail a chicken to a tree, and that chicken is free!” Tee-shirt sales with little cartoon chickens, have your rooster’s head stuffed and mounted on a banana wood plaque with carved painted figures of chickens along the border, slingshots for the kids to hunt pullets, rubber chickens impaled on rubber arrows. “We’d make a fortune!”, she chortles.
Names have been omitted to protect the clearly deranged. But at least I have it documented for her doctors.