Mike and Bill, are hanging out in the lone bar in a one-horse town in northern Idaho, when a local rancher walks in carrying a wolf pelt. "Good work!" says the bartender. He pops the cash register open, pulls out a wad of bills, and counts them out into the rancher's outstretched hand.
After the rancher leaves, Mike asks the bartender, "What was that all about?"
The barkeep says, "Haven't you boys heard? We got us a real wolf problem in these parts, and the county ain't done a thing about it. Why, just last week, a pack of the damn varmints came onto my property and laid waste t'my chicken coop. Ol' Man Miller down the road even lost four of his cattle to the bloodthirsty beasts! They're vicious, and they got no fear -- and they gotta be stopped. So I'm offerin' a bounty -- a hundred dollars to anybody who brings in a wolf pelt."
Mike and Bill look at each other, and immediately race out of the bar to go hunt wolves. After wandering around the hills for several hours, they finally spot a lone wolf in the distance. Mike takes aim with his rifle and shoots the wolf dead. The two fellas sprint over to where the carcass lay, and Mike gets busy with the pelt.
Suddenly, Bill says, "Hey, Mike, look."
"Not now," says Mike, "I'm busy."
Bill tugs on Mike's sleeve and says, "Mike, I think you really ought to see this."
"Not now!" Mike says again. "Can't you see I've got a hundred dollars in my hands?"
Bill's voice starts to waver. "Mike, please, just look!"
Mike stops what he's doing and looks up: The two men are surrounded by a pack of wolves -- at least fifty in all, every one of them growling, drooling, gnashing their teeth, and licking their chops.
Mike takes in the sight and gasps: "Oh, my God... We're gonna be rich!"