Timber

A Story by Nudnick

Thwap, thwap, thwap - the lumberjack’s cast iron axe wedges into the ancient trunk as a stream of sweat flows down the lumberjack’s forehead, carving out a riverbed. Surely skin doesn’t erode so quickly, but the lumberjack had been labouring on this particular tree for 27 hours straight.

“Screw you, Terrance!”

The lumberjack always named his victims, and this impressive landmark was clearly a ‘Terrance’.

Surrounding the lumberjack’s current obsession is an array of splintered wood chips within a dark jungle of the greenest plants, weeds, and grasses. A fertile ecosystem, no doubt cultivated by the permanent muggy fog and the fostering old-growth trees.

Thwap, thwap. Crraack. The lumberjack stumbles back in disbelief, and realizing that his senses aren’t deceiving him, hops in celebration.

“TIMBER! That’s right Terrance, T-I-M-B-E-R!”

Terrance seems to fall slowly, while the creaking, twisting, and snapping combine to craft a voice mimicking one long exhale, “Terrance dooooooown”. Terry craters, emanating a force strong enough to knock the lumberjack on to his back. A thick black misty cloud escapes from the base of the elder tree, where half of its mangled roots have been torn out of the forest floor.

The lumberjack scratches his scalp and dusts the dirt from his shoulders as he wills himself up from the ground. To mark his achievement, the lumberjack pulls himself to his pack to puff on his pipe. As soon as he snags his sack, a hairless unclothed being bursts out from it - it’s only distinguishing features are an inhumanly pale complexion and a bum fit for a being at least twice it’s size. Standing face-to-face, eyes wide open with noses all but touching, in a victorian accent it exclaims, “Neigh, darling. Neigh!”, then spanks the lumberjack’s face cheek and gallops away.

The lumberjack freezes in place, considering whether he really just experienced what he did. Just then, three more of the beings spew out of his pack, and wind up for another volley of slaps. The first one hits, as the lumberjack closes his eyes and braces for impact.

The second slap hits too, but it does not originate from a bald bulbous being. “He’s awake!” The lumberjack opens his eyes to the sight of a nurse with a rolled-up sleeve. He is laying in a bed indoors somewhere. The nurse turns to the lumberjack, “You’re lucky to be alive! It seems that you came into contact with a large dose of the trunk funk. Not to worry, we’ve already shaved you bald and now we just need to inject your rump to increase it’s volume two-fold and you’ll be all set!”

“Neigh.” The lumberjack covers his mouth, not believing what he just uttered involuntarily. The nurse looks pleased, “It looks like you are taking wonderfully to the treatment,”

In a panicked burst of realization, the lumberjack howls,“NOOOOOOO!”

The lumberjack opens his eyes, again. He is back in the forest, surrounded by forest dwellers. Half are inspecting the fallen tree with sorrow, while the others are bows drawn and spears jabbing angrily in his direction. The lumberjack is oddly comforted by the presence of hair on his head, chest, and arms. “Meh, it could be worse”, reasons the lumberjack.