You ever see one of those lures that just looks like trouble for fish? That’s the Mickey Finn—sleek as a greased minnow with those flashy yellow and red bucktail wings that scream "eat me" in any language. I’ve had chromers slam this thing so hard in Montana’s Jefferson River it nearly yanked the rod outta my hands. And don’t even get me started on linesides in weedy backwaters—this fly’s like candy to ‘em.

Now, here’s the thing about bucktail: it’s got this lazy, lifelike wiggle synthetics just can’t fake. Stack it right—yellow over red, or vice versa if you’re feeling spicy—and that wing pulses like a panicked shiner even on a slow retrieve. Purists might grumble about mixing colors, but trust me, that red/yellow combo? Fish see it like a neon diner sign. Body’s wrapped in tinsel—not the Christmas-tree stuff, the flat, mirror-bright kind that throws prism flashes when the sun’s low. I’ve watched smallmouths track those glints at dusk like they’re hypnotized.

Speaking of saltwater, this thing’s stupidly versatile. Redfish crush it in the marshes, especially when you work it with quick strips to mimic a darting mullet. But what really cooks their goose is the swing—let it pendulum in a current, and suddenly you’ve got sea trout playing tug-o-war. Freshwater? Pike and musky eyeball it like it’s lunch, but trout are the main event. Dead-drift it through riffles, then twitch it awake on the swing. That erratic stumble triggers strikes like a dinner bell.

Tying one’s dead simple—long-shank hook, tinsel body (floss if you’re old-school), and that iconic layered bucktail. Some guys add hackle fibers for a throat, but I skip it—the bare-bones version dances better. Oh, and epoxy the head unless you enjoy re-tying after every toothy critter.

Funny thing—this pattern’s been around since dirt, but it still out-fishes fancy modern stuff. Maybe ‘cause it’s got just enough flash to be obnoxious without looking fake. Or maybe fish are just suckers for nostalgia. Either way, toss it where baitfish school up, and hold on.