Squirrel and Saltines

My family is as Southern as fried pickles.
Now, one Thanksgiving, a friend of mine came over to spend the dinner with us. With a Southern's love of pranks, I neglected to inform him just how country we did it here (he wasn't from the South). Flash forward to him staring in mute horror at my family as we all gathered around the bowl of finely shredded squirrel and spread it on saltines. His horror stayed as my cousin described how she saw it and my uncle shot it (which, of course, led to the story of the time he shot a squirrel and it landed on her head. His terror was complete shortly thereafter).
He managed to survive the rest of the day of shooting air soft guns off our our back porch and the many loud but cheerful arguments. (If only he had been at Christmas when my cousin Bobby lit a piano key on fire...ah well).
In summary, my roots are as deeply rooted in the South as they are in good food and family. Country is obviously the way to go, but sometimes, them other folks just don't get it.