Sarah Palin’s prowess at hunting large animals put me in mind of this amazing old Woody Allen stand-up bit:

I shot a moose once. I was hunting in upstate New York, and I shot a moose. I strapped him on to the fender of my car, and I’m driving home along the West Side Highway. But what I didn’t realize was that the bullet did not penetrate the moose. It just creased the scalp, knocking him unconscious. And I’m driving through the Holland Tunnel, and the moose woke up.

So I’m driving with a live moose on my fender. The moose is signaling for a turn. There’s a law in New York state against driving with a conscious moose on your fender, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. And I’m very panicky, and then it hits me: some friends of mine are having a costume party. I’ll go. I’ll take the moose. I’ll ditch him at the party.

So I drive up to the party and I knock on the door. The moose is next to me. My host comes to the door. I say “Hello. You know the Solomons.” We enter.

The moose mingles. Did very well. Scored. Two guys were trying to sell him insurance for an hour and a half.

Twelve o’clock comes. They give out prizes for the best costume of the night. First prize goes to the Berkowitzes, a married couple dressed as a moose. The moose comes in second.

The moose is furious. He and the Berkowitzes lock antlers in the living room. They knock each other unconscious. Now, I figured, here is my chance. I grab the moose, strap him onto my fender, and shoot back to the roads, but…I got the Berkowitzes.

So I’m driving along with two Jewish people on my fender, and there’s a law in New York State…Tuesdays, Thursdays and especially Saturday.

The following morning the Berkowitzes wake up in the woods, in a moose suit. Mr. Berkowitz is shot, stuffed and mounted at the New York Athletic Club, and the joke is on them, because it’s restricted.