The HareHunter in his natural habitat, has earned the infamous title of PunMeister. This imprimature has been given on behalf of his ability to see puns in practically anything he sees or hears. His claim that this particular peculiarity was passed from his paternal parent is entirely plausible.

A prime example of the paternal wit is this:
One Sunday after our usual weekend chat, and a few moments since we had disconnected, I get a call back from my Dad.
I asked him, "What did you forget?"
To which he answered, "I just pea'd on the floor.
Holding my head in my hand, I inquired, "Why did you do that?"
Gleefully, he responded, "Well, I was in the kitchen preparing dinner, and while opening a bag of frozen peas, the bag exploded and pea'd all over the floor."

He had made a long distance phone call just share that little gem with me. This is one remembery I will never be able to forget.

I have heard it said that puns could well be be called, Verbal Flatulence. It is just as quick to empty a conference room with one bad pun, as with the other kind of flatulence.