"Hello! Up here. I'm in need of recovery." "Huh, you're in a pickle, aintcha? Funny place for an intervention. Ma brother-in-law worked his steps inna clinic." "Pickle? Is this not a tree? I assure you I see no steps whatsoever. How do you say it? I'm up a tree without a paddle?" "I can see that. Lost your canoe? Fish outta water?" "Can you? Can I ...fish?" "Now I know that aint right. Grammy tol' me it's may I. Yer lookin' to fish?" "Melting meteorites! Crumbling comets! Do you not see I am up a tree?" "Oh, trust me fella. You stick out like a sore thumb. None-a ma bees' wax mind. Ya wanna hug a tree? Go fer it." "I wish to be free." "Hey, I hear ya, but folks in these parts tend ta cover up. It's the decent thing ta do." "Up? No, I want to be down." "Cool man. Imma down fer anythin'. Whatcha into? Travel, right? Ya don't look like a local." "How observant of you. I followed a beam until this evergreen snagged me." "A beam? Aint no roof beam fer miles. Didja fall from a tightrope thing?I knew it. You're a circus gypsy." "I seem to be doing some delicate balancing at the moment. Okay, yes, I'm a wanderer. Some refer to me as an ...intergalactic outsider." "Whoa, that's harsh dude. My motto is live and let live. We all have our idio-whatchamacallits. I talk to strangers, no offence." "I track and explore energy pulses, signals. A strong one led me here. I thought I might discover a satellite." "Ya, I wish. The companies claim I'm too far out in the boonies fer reception." "Hmmm, the pull is unmistakable. Perhaps magnetic?" "Must be that there animal magnetism. I heard tell of it and I caint control it." "Trust me, it's not your aura calling me. This is powerful, a solar burst intensity." "Solar, ya said? Like sun? I do have solar lights strung 'round ma camper. Bears beware." "My scan detects a pulsating landing strip in this forest." "Landing strip? Pshaw. Like fer aircraft? As if." "Why have you summoned me here? Why have I traversed the galaxy?" "Hold on now. The only galaxy I know is ma car, a rustin', bucket o' bolts. It aint goin' nowhere. Sorta like you in that tree." "Do you, or do you not possess a tree-departure apparatus?" "A what now?" "I grow weary of my perch. Fetch me a rescue device." "All righty then. Grammy bless her heart warned me about yous. Said they couldn't follow their noses." "I've no nose." "Exactly. That last strandee insisted her garden gnomes and windchimes created a beacon homin' signal." "Last strandee?" "Extraterrestrial Ernie. Shall I call him? He has a ladder. Standard equipment for ALIEN." "Pardon?" "Appropriate Lifeforce Infallible Extrication Network. Grammy's towing/recovery biz. She loves these trees." ( 479 words )
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