The Rednecks ™ are back in my neighbors’ yard, dismantling an oak about twice as tall as any house on the block and, fortunately, a safe distance back from me. I would still like to see the closer-in Tree of Damocles taken out completely, but since my neighbors do not believe in hiring competent properly equipped workpeople if they can find some toothless fuckup to toss them a low bid, I probably should say nothing. All I need is to have some client on the table exposed to the sickening pulpy sound of a Redneck hitting my driveway at 32 feet per second per second.
For all I know these guys are related to my neighbors, who display invincibly redneck characteristics, such as industrial-level Budweiser consumption, ownership of multiple poorly trained large dogs, an equal number of large vehicles, and at least one collateral family member employed by the NRA. I still cannot decide if they hate me personally or just treat me like a space alien on principle because I am not related to them. Any family that finds it attractive to live next door or across the street from other immediate family members probably regards my property as Lebensraum that ought rightly to be waiting to receive the rising generation, like the Sudetenland.
The chainsaws have been going since Saturday, along with periodic ominous shouts of “Get out of the fuckin’ way!” followed by loud thuds. They are on the secondary trunk now and it is getting more thuddy by the hour.
I honestly respect the skill and balls required to do a thing like this at all, but I believe these guys have bitten off a lot more than they are equipped to chew.
If anything falls out of control maybe it will just hit the dogs. Quick, painless and merciful.