“Alright Cherry Tree, I am going to Chop you down.
That’s right, I said it.
I’m going to take my axe,
and I’m going to swing it,
gently through the air
and just whack at your trunk
and you will go tip-over
timber-fall, ha-ha, he-he
I will laugh and be merry
while you are dead.
You stupid tree.
You have no idea what’s coming do you?”
“What the hell?”
“Yea, that’s right Georgy Boy,
I’m the tree. And I’m talking.”
“What? A tree cannot talk!”
“Yea, well. I am.
And I’m saying, hey man,
don’t cut me down, y’know?”
“Hold on, just a minute.
You’re telling me, you are a talking tree?”
“Yea… I think that’s been established at this point.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Let me make sure I have this straight.
So you are a tree… and you can talk?”
“So you are a tree, with ehh trunk and leaves
and root systems providing the canopy for the bird
which sits on your branch and then the cherry blossoms
and the fruit ripening, and all that?
Like a real tree?”
“Yea Georgy, I’m a real tree.
Come on, what are you doing here?
What are you talking about? I’ve been chilling in this orchard
for many years, you have sat next to me
and written in your little princess diary many times,
I have seen you with your little flute
and your frilly outfits, how you dance around like
a fairy-child with pockets filled with, ehh… gay stuff.”
“Wow, well, if you can talk…
how come you haven’t said anything to me before?”
“Well, you weren’t trying to kill me before,
you see I don’t really like you at all,
in fact I think you are quite obnoxious,
a little spoiled, a little too much frolic if you know what I mean,
I like to bask in the sun, I enjoy drinking the water
and the photosynthesis process, y’know stuff like that
the occasional rodent keeps me company
the birds singing, they can be annoying sometimes too…”
“Oh, well… anyways, I’m glad that you can talk, I guess…
but I’m still going to be cutting you down now,
you fucking tree.”
“Hey, what do you want to do that for? Ehh?
I am not bothering you. I am not on the side of the British,
I am not some sort of rebellious Indian fighting
for his native land, I am not some scorned woman
plotting your destruction, No. I am just a tree!
Why do you seek to chop me down,
you son of a bitch?”
“Well, tree. Unfortunately for you, I do not explain
myself to trees, I mean, I’ve never had to before,
they usually don’t have the ability to speak,
but either way, I don’t feel I have to defend myself
in this instance either.”
“Oh, come on Georgy, don’t be like this.
Hey man, I tell you what, here’s what we do, OK.
You bring home a girl, you sit under me,
and I will whisper in your ear the perfect formula
for getting her to unrobe her under-garments
for you, so that you can ehh… taste of her
cherry blossom if you get the obvious sexual reference, ehh?”
“OK, tree. I won’t chop you down.
I’m just going to walk away, slowly… slowly…”
“Oh, God damn it, George you son of a bitch!
What the hell man? You lied for like no reason, just then.
You really are not ehh well let’s say you’re not
my favorite at the moment.”
“Hah! That’s what you get Tree. I told you I’d chop you down.”
“You are a liar, George Washington, and all the world
will remember you as a liar.
You cannot tell the truth can you?”
“They will remember me however I want them to remember me,
you stupid tree.”
“Oh, you son of a bitch!”
“I will get to the root of you, you Tree.
I will make you fall like your leaves.
I will ehh… trun-cate you! Yes, haha!
I will ehh… well, I ehh. I will ehh branch out to other
ehh negative actions towards you, yea!
I will, uhh, I will… figure out more metaphors
which are ironic because you are in fact a tree,
yes this is what I will do.”
“Oh, you scumbag. You had to do it, didn’t you.
Georgy, you couldn’t resist the easy puns,
oh, big man, making yourself sound more evil
with the arboreal wordings of your hurting me,
you add the insult to the injury
at my expense, that is really… unnecessary, no?”
“That’s right, Tree. Yes, you see the unnecessariness
of my half-assed word-play, you see how little
I care about the quality of the insult
as I hack you to death like the Tree that you are!”
“Georgy, Georgy… wait, one more hit and I’ll be dead.
Can’t we resolve our differences? I know I am a tree
and you are just a son of a bitch colonial cock-sucker
mother-fucker, but despite you being such a piece-of-shit
scum of the earth schmegegelah, can’t we resolve
our differences, you worthless pansy?”
“I’m sorry Tree, but your kind-words have come too late,
and now I will use you to make my teeth
and to make toothpicks… to pick my teeth,
so really, you will be the teeth and the thing picking it,
Oh, ho-ho, ha-ha, HAHAHAHA!
Yea, Tree, now dead, I use you in two different
ways involving my mouth.
Now, I go to get high as fuck
and watch shitty re-runs of Step by Step
on my anachronistic television set.