C is for Chainsaw

“He may as well have been wearing a hockey mask for the effect he had on David. He was feverishly cutting away at a shrub which lay at the foot of his back stairs. By the time David arrived to see the carnage, Phil had already reduced the once mighty plant to a husk, less than a quarter of its original size.”
- Loathe Your Neighbor ch. 1
 
I bought a chainsaw in a box. I wanted a cheap one so I risked buying an unknown brand from overseas which I knew I would have to partially assemble. I was excited when it arrived. The thought of felling trees, with apologies to any Greenie readers, thrilled me. I couldn’t wait to get the thing out of the box, put it together, add some fuel and let her rip. In my mind’s eye, I watched the target of my hostility yield quickly to my two stroke power. Sadly, I did not get very far because the new chainsaw had a broken part. To cut a long story short, after I fitted the replacement part, the chainsaw sat in my shed gathering dust until my brother in law managed to do what I was not able to: start the damn thing. Many months had elapsed and I had often dreamed of the demolition job I was going to do on the unwanted living wooden towers which crowded my property. With the roar of the two stroke coming to life in my brother-in-law’s hands, my hope was renewed. Three weeks later, I donned my safety gear and felled the offender, reducing it to handy carry sized logs in less than fifteen minutes. Maybe I should have worn a hockey mask…you can call me Phil if you want.