Now then: There I was, dying in the woods.
No, wait. First I was alive in the woods, hanging out in this meadow, eyeballing a nest in the Main Crook (quick: Name that president!) of a giant non-redwood tree.
So I decided to go check that nest out. Though young, I was nimble of brain–and here’s what my brain was telling me as I scoped out yon nest: “Look at that thing. It’s huge. I can’t believe that’s a nest. It looks like that old tree burped, and this was the disgusting result. Like trees burp. How stupid. Those talking, apple-hurling trees in the Wizard of Oz burped, though, for sure. Who knows how gross those trees got? Thank God for censors. Anyway, I’m gonna go look at that nest. I’ve got to go see what’s inside that thing. I wonder if it’ll be lined with anything? Probably with down and feathers. Duh. Talk about comfort. Wait–birds have down and feathers with them wherever they go.
“I wonder why you never see birds lying on their sides, enjoying all the down and feathers they’re totally surrounded with? Why are they always standing? If I was a bird, you wouldn’t be able to get me off the ground with a cattle prod. If I wanted to get somewhere, I wouldn’t fly or walk. I’d roll.
“If someone alone in the woods laughs at their own joke, is that joke still funny? Yes. If a person finds any pun funny, has that person been alone in the woods too long? Yes. Anyway, I’m gonna go look in that bird’s nest. I don’t care about the Bird Alarm System. That’s for big birds. I’m not a big bird. I’m bigger than a big bird. I’m a human. Humans rule nature. All the birds will just stop, while I climb that tree and look into that nest. Plus, I know I put off Harmonious Human vibes. My fellow woodland creatures will just know that I don’t mean them or this nest any harm. They’ll know I come in peace. This’ll be good. This’ll work.”
So, I rose from my spot on the meadow’s edge, and boldly began my trek across the meadow toward the giant bird’s nest I’d been long regarding.