My Days As A Tree Hunter

I am a Tree Hunter by profession. My prize kill is the Wooly Oak.
I remember that hunt well...

Well, It was a blistery night and I'd been tracking the beast for 3 days. I was almost out of supplies and was forced to feed on the berries of his ancestors that had fallen to the ground.
I was making my approach and a gusting of wind came out and his branches were whipping all around.
They caught me in the face and throat through my layers of clothing, ripping at me, tearing, clawing my body.
I made a final lunge toward him and ran into his swing as it came around. I was thrown back 20 feet! Coming to my sences, I took one final leap at the giant and caught him in the base with my ax!
Stunned, he stopped thrashing for a moment, which gave me time to grab my saw and start the grueling and gruesome act of killing. He didn't go quietly, scratching me the whole while until finally he gave his final swoosh and came crashing down.
I still keep the main branch mounted about my fireplace... to remind me. Almost had a close call when it caught on fire last week, but I quickly averted disaster with my pendingly patented Official Tree Hunter Gas Gouger.

Many vegetarians get pissed at me because I hunt for sport and not for food and/or nourishment. "Back in my day," my Grandfather used to tell me. "We used to use the whole tree. Didn't waste a tootin' thing! The branches, the roots we used to squeeze tree juice out of and then grind up into a creamy souflet, the trunk, the leaves even made for clothes. We'd skin the hide off the beast to make winter coats for those long nights (30' deep the snow was back then). We'd even use the darned TRUNK. But you kids today, with your fancy-smancy tools and 'saws.' Why back in my day, we didn't have 'lectricity or any fancy hunting gear. Why I wrestled an apple tree in my own backyard, I did. Mutant tree near ate your father, it did . . . ."

I am often asked what types of saws I use when I go in for the kill.
I don't use a saw at all, really. I started out with Bow and arrow, which worked great for softwoods, but now that I've moved on to oaks and such, they are no longer sufficient. The hardest part is sneaking up on them. You'd think that such a mammoth tree would not even notice (my being so comparatively small and all), but you would be surprised; they can be quite wily. No, saws just don't cut it for today's tree hunters (especially for the hairy ones -- that's hairy trees, not hairy hunters). To be a Tree Hunter in today's market requires a bit of imagination and a spark of ingenuity. I like to use a variety of tactics when tracking down my prize. Many times, I will poison the tree by uncovering an unsuspecting root and injecting liquid chlorine (turns the bark a nice shade of white). Other times, after my hound sniffs out the beast, I will allow him to make the kill (he does so enjoy this). My grandfather used to stare down the trees. He'd stare for hours until finally the thing gave in and wilted. A great starer, he was; one of the best. I have tried this tactic, but am not quite so successful. What works better for me is to scare them into submission .

-Mike Biancaniello

Submitted By: Mike Biancaniello
May 29, 1998 13:13

This joke is rated: G